


you're a candle in the window

by smallblueandloud



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: (probably some mild ward bashing. whatever. i have issues with him. like no one else does.), Bisexual Skye | Daisy Johnson, Canon Rewrite, Multi, Pansexual Jemma Simmons, Polyamory, Team as Family, fitz is... figuring it out lol, god this story is going to be the death of me, he likes women and the rest is kinda hard, i started this more than a year ago and here we are, this has ROMANTIC FITZSKIMMONS and if you're not happy with that then PLEASE DON'T READ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallblueandloud/pseuds/smallblueandloud
Summary: “Yeah, but you’re more than that, Jemma. And I couldn’t- I never could find the courage to tell you, so please- let me show you.”“But what about Skye?”“She’s just as much. Both of you, you mean so much to me- I lo- Jemma, please, if you don’t do this, and get up there to make sure she's safe, I will never forgive myself.”(or, a rewrite of seasons 1-4, if the canon relationship was fitzskimmons and life was a little kinder to these three)





	you're a candle in the window

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts), [theclaravoyant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/gifts).



> unbetaed, so every single mistake is mine. (do you know how hard it is to proofread a 25k fic you've spent 15 months on? do you?? i was doing the final readthrough right before posting and just.... gave up, completely, i am so tired. so if you find any errors - it's from then.)
> 
> this story is dedicated to florchis and theclaravoyant, who have both been very wonderful to me as i joined the aos fandom, answered every question i asked them, and are the main defenders and supporters, whichever the situation requires, of this ot3. (read both of their fic, good reader - you won't regret it!) you two are the reason why i ship these three and why i have dedicated so long (so. many. hours.) to my three babies. i hope you enjoy this, and i hope it does fitz, daisy, and jemma justice.

_ “How will you come at us? From the air? From the ground? How will you silence us this time? How  _ can _ you? The truth is in the wind. It’s everywhere. You cannot stop the Rising Tide. You will not find us. You will never see your faces. But, rest assured, we will rise against those who shield us from the truth. And nothing -  _ nothing _ \- can stop us in the-” _

__

_ - _

 

Skye’s still miffed about being interrupted when the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents finally pull the bag off of her head. They’re in a cell in a plane somewhere - look, she’s not a  _ complete _ civilian, she knows how to use her ears - but besides that, she has no idea where she is.

 

She’s honestly surprised that being kidnapped by strange white men is making her feel more annoyed than scared.  _ You’d think that I’d be smart enough to know that I have no clue what I’m- _

 

Oh. There’s the fear.

 

She tries not to focus on it as the shorter (and older) man clears his throat, obviously about to threaten her or something.

 

But instead, he says, “Sorry for the lack of finesse. Agent Ward here has had a little history with your group.”

 

Pssh. _ He’s  _ apologizing _? _

 

Skye suddenly feels a lot less scared.

 

And as the so-called “interrogation” continues, she gets more and more confident. First of all, Agent Coulson seems more like a suburban dad than a “super kick-ass spy”. Also, they don’t even know what Centipede _ is _ .

 

And if she’s being honest? That Ward guy seems to be blowing his top way more than any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent should. She doesn’t know what’s up with him, but she’s very glad that Coulson’s in the room whenever Ward is, because he seems like kind of a loose canon, about to explode. At least, until Coulson sticks him with the truth serum.

 

(Which she knows is probably fake. But it’s  _ really cool _ , and even if they just did it so that she’d trust them, it still means that Ward has to  _ act _ like he’s being forced to say his deepest, darkest secrets. Hilarious.)

 

So she’s in a good mood when they finally let her out of the cell. And she’s starting to have serious doubts about her plan to hide Mike from them. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. may be bad, but if they’re telling the truth, there’s something far worse after Mike Peterson.  And what they’re saying does make sense - the people making Centipede would want to silence any witnesses, including their own test subject. And if they figure out that she talked to Mike and S.H.I.E.L.D. in the same day-

 

Skye won’t have anyone’s blood on her hands. And Agent Coulson really does look trustworthy. No one’s  _ that _ good of an actor.

 

Mike Peterson seems to be in trouble, too. He’s on the news in footage of him injuring a factory foreman for no apparent reason. Not very good P.R., especially for a tall black man.

 

_ If S.H.I.E.L.D. is good at anything _ , Skye reasons, _ it’s good at covering things up. _ Bad press is the last thing Mike needs right now. So she makes her decision. Takes the leap. Puts her cards on the table. Et cetera. She gives them Mike’s information and hopes she’s done the right thing.

 

As Coulson’s scanning Mike’s driver’s license, three more agents walk in. Or at least, one properly badass-looking agent walks in. The other two look like they wandered in from the local high school and both seem to be going above and beyond with the cute-and-scruffy-nerd look.

 

“This is Skye, a hacker with the Rising Tide who made contact with the powered guy from earlier,” says Coulson, gesturing at her. “Skye, this is May.”

 

“Hi,” says Skye, waving awkwardly, and tries not to let her eyes linger on May’s figure. Now  _ this _ is a proper secret agent. She could probably kill them all with her pinky finger, and Skye would thank her for it.

 

Agent May doesn’t even look up. Fuck, she’s awesome. Now isn’t the time for Skye to have a half-fangirl-and-half-bisexual crisis, but when has that ever stopped her?

 

“And these two are Fitz-Simmons,” says Coulson, waving the kids over and interrupting Skye’s thoughts (probably for the best).

 

“Hold on,” says Skye. “You just called them by one name?”

 

“He’s Fitz,” says the girl, walking up to the table and gesturing to him, behind her. For some reason, she meets Skye’s eye, and then turns red and looks down.

 

“And she’s Simmons,” says Fitz, pointing at his partner and then quickly joining her at the table, both of them avoiding her eyes. “They call us by the same name because we always work together. I’m engineering, she’s biochem.”

 

“Cool,” says Skye, wondering some at the fact that there are two people who are considered one. “That’s really cool, actually. Finally, some brains in this outfit.”

 

Fitz smiles sort of nervously, and Simmons half-chuckles. They still look nervous, though, and Skye hates it when people are nervous around her.

 

“Kids, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” she tries, and tries to ignore the jolt of- something. Fate. Kismet.

 

(Probably, if she’s being realistic, an AC unit turning on. But a girl can dream. Today’s been weird enough, right?)

 

Fitz grins.  _ Finally, a real smile from one of them. _

 

“We’ll see,” he says. Coulson begins to brief them, and maybe she’s crazy, but it feels like the beginning of something.

 

Or maybe she’s right. There’s nothing to do but wait and see. She smiles at Fitz, and then turns to Coulson as he starts talking. “Mike Peterson. Factory worker, married...”

 

-

 

Coulson tells them that Skye will be coming onboard the Bus as a consultant, and Fitz lights up immediately. Jemma notices. They haven’t been best friends for years for no reason, after all.

 

“Does someone have a crush?” she asks, sidling up to him as he tinkers with the Night-Night gun. Fitz turns bright red but keeps twisting the wires that he’s working on.

 

“No!”

 

She hmms, just to fluster him some more. His voice starts getting higher as he speaks in outrage.

 

“Shut up! Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you stare at Ward’s... posterior!”

 

It’s her turn to blush.

 

“Oi, it’s for science!”

 

“Science!” Fitz scoffs, and then they’re off to the races. But she doesn’t forget how he’d reacted when they brought it up, and she can’t resist teasing him about it over the course of the day.

 

Truthfully, though, Skye  _ is _ pretty. Jemma can’t fault Fitz on his taste in women, that’s for sure.

 

Skye is _ very _ pretty, in fact, which is why Jemma, a very flustered pansexual even when she’s  _ not _ around beautiful women, trips over her tongue multiple times while giving Skye a tour of the bus and also tries her best to make the two of them seem like experienced field agents.

 

(It’s probably not working very well - Jemma knows she’s an awful liar (and actor, for that matter) - but Skye nods along anyways and Jemma finds herself stuttering some more over her easygoing kindness.)

 

She’s not ashamed, exactly, of the fact that they’ve spent most, or maybe  _ all _ , of their time up to now in a lab. There’s nothing wrong with spending time in the lab, and she still believes that. It’s just that- they’re both so  _ inexperienced _ , and Skye is so- she’s really cool, and snarky, and  _ pretty _ .

 

_ If she keeps looking like this _ , Jemma thinks,  _ neither I nor Fitz are going to survive her being on the team. _

 

_ However _ , she reflects later, staring into Skye’s rather stunning smile, _ it would be a pretty good way to go. _

 

-

 

Fitz comes up with his best idea of the entire day after Skye has escaped Quinn. Coulson is out making sure that no one tries to access the gravitonium ever again ( _ good riddance _ , he thinks) and Ward is off doing god-knows-what, which leaves Simmons, Skye, and himself as the only people willing to hold conversations on the entire plane. And they still don’t know each other that well. Which makes it positively  _ logical _ to play a game or two. Only to break the ice. No other reasons.

 

Except- Simmons is  _ undefeated _ at Cluedo. Fitz has a feeling that Skye can help him finally beat her. He might have a bit of a crush on her, but Simmons turns bright pink every time that Skye compliments their work, so the playing field is leveled, so to speak.

 

If anything, Skye’s presence  _ should _ fluster Simmons enough for Fitz to figure out who killed Mr. Body before her.

 

Halfway through the game, Fitz starts to realize that  _ should _ isn’t good enough.

 

And that it might not just be Simmons who is very good at beating him.

 

“Ha!” Skye crows, as she makes it to the second to last room. Fitz is too focused on how her fingers look wrapped around her pen to pay attention to whatever Simmons is revealing.  _ Bloody hell. _

 

Skye ends up very close to winning, but Simmons figures it out, the way she always does.

 

Fitz finally remembers to look down at his scoresheet as they’re putting the game away.

 

He’s only marked down two eliminations during the course of the entire game.

 

He looks up to see Jemma grinning at him. When he rolls his eyes, she points at Skye and then makes the universal gesture for  _ that backfired, didn’t it? _

 

_ Oh, she is going  _ down _ next game _ , Fitz thinks, as he scowls at her. It was fun to play with Skye (it was  _ amazing _ ), but that doesn’t mean he’s willing to let  _ Simmons _ off the hook. This means war.

 

-

 

One morning, on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s scary-looking plane-base-thing about three weeks in, Skye wakes up early. She’s always been a morning person, and living in a van with thin curtains that let the dawning sun’s light in only made it worse. She briefly considers going back to sleep before reasoning that she’d better keep getting “in” with the people who might have access to information on her past.

 

But when she gets out of her room, it seems like the only other person awake is May. She’s doing some kind of yoga-thing in the main room, and she doesn’t even spare Skye a second glance. Skye decides quickly that trying to make conversation will be futile - as usual - and hurries on to the kitchen.

 

When she gets there, she’s surprised to see Cute Scientist #2, Fitz, making himself cereal. He doesn’t notice her, though, just keeps working while humming something that sounds suspiciously like Elton John. He’s got a truly impressive number of ingredients, along with a bowl, balanced in his hands.

 

“Um- hello?”

 

Fitz startles so violently he almost drops his milk, turning to glance at her distractedly. “Hi! Sorry-” he says, trying to juggle everything in his hands, which have all suddenly lost their equilibrium. “Um- can I get-” He gestures past her to a drawer. When she moves out of the way, he opens it and pulls out a spoon.

 

“Up early?” she asks. Fitz smiles, a little ruefully. Everything in his hands seems to have balanced again. “I’m not good at sleeping in,” he says. “Simmons will sleep until noon if she can, though.”

 

“Really?” asks Skye. He grins and bumps her shoulder, as she belatedly remembers that  _ hey, I’m super touch starved and that’s gonna freak me out. _ Her brain goes into such high gear that she almost misses what he says. “Yeah. She absolutely hates sleeping late, but she hates alarms and bright sunshine more, so I’m always eating breakfast alone.”

 

Skye laughs. He’s just so  _ adorable _ , she can’t help it - especially the smile on his face when he talks about his partner, and the way he’s so friendly with her, not quite a stranger but not really a friend. “I could eat with you,” she blurts out, and then winces when she realizes what she said. “I mean- if you want.” Anything to keep that casual affection, plus he’s really fun to spend time around, she’s noticed. She  _ wants _ to make friends with Fitz-Simmons, the only two other people on this plane who understand what it’s like to solve a problem that no one has before.

 

“That would be- good,” says Fitz, and now they’re  _ both _ blushing. She shakes it off, grabbing a piece of toast and following him to the lab, where he sits down at a table that’s noticeably empty, compared to the others.

 

“This is our eating-and-or-reading table,” Fitz says, when she comments on it. “There was an incident involving a cat Simmons was dissecting-”

 

“TMI,” Skye interrupts, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder - testing his boundaries. When he doesn’t react negatively, she relaxes a little more, and her smile gets a little wider. “Let’s eat first, okay?”

 

Fitz nods and launches into a completely different story. He’s surprisingly good company, joking and telling funny anecdotes about his time at the S.H.I.E.L.D. academy with Simmons. Skye, in turn, tells him about all the times the nuns caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to in her troubled youth, which quickly has him in hysterics. During one story he even almost spurts milk out his nose.

 

She’s sorry when it’s time for the day to start and her to leave, at least until she makes a joke to a recently-awakened-and-still-grumpy Simmons that she’d rather stay in the lab with them. The other woman blinks, seeming to forget her crankiness. “You could code in here, if you want,” she says, and Fitz’s head snaps up from where he’s putting the finishing touches on some kind of gun, excited.

 

“Seriously?” she asks, looking back at Simmons. “I won’t - I don’t know - mess with the nerd-mojo you got going here or something?”

 

“No, honestly, the more the merrier!” says Simmons, and if her cheeks are a little pink  _ Skye _ definitely doesn’t notice.

 

And Simmons turns out to be right, because apparently Skye never realized that coding in a room with other people is actually  _ way _ more fun than coding alone in her van. Occasionally, one of them will call out something noteworthy or funny about their research, or she’ll use one of them to help her debug. It’s... fun. Spending time with them, that is. Just like breakfast was.

 

If being at S.H.I.E.L.D. is like  _ this _ all the time, she can see why people ignore all of the nastiness that they do to manipulate the public and hide information. This whole- having a team thing, and working with people like you, is pretty great. Especially with these two in particular.

 

“Today was good,” says Fitz, when they’re packing up their equipment. “I had fun.”

 

“Me too,” says Simmons absently. “Fitz, can you just check on this-”

 

“No, Simmons,” says Fitz fondly, rolling his eyes at Skye. “Time to stop working and eat dinner.”

 

Skye considers staying quiet for a moment, then thinks  _ screw it _ and throws caution to the wind. “Same time tomorrow?” she asks.

 

“Sure!” says Fitz.

 

“Yes!” says Simmons brightly at the same time, her whole face lighting up, although she doesn’t look up from her microscope. Skye chuckles a little, starting to walk away. “Alright, you two. Goodnight.” She brings up her hand to wave goodbye, and Fitz grabs it and gives it a little squeeze before turning back to his wayward partner.

 

“Bye,” he says, as he tries to pry Simmons away from her microscope. “Bye!” squeaks Skye, waving back and making a beeline for the door, pressing her back against the wall outside and trying to take deep breaths.

 

She really,  _ really _ likes these scientists, not to mention the fact that she’s been  _ so alone _ for  _ so long. _ But she has to stay on mission, and that means not getting attached to these people, because they are the enemy. Or they should be.

 

( _ On second thought, this infiltrating-S.H.I.E.L.D. thing might not be as easy as she thought it would be, _ she thinks, remembering how Fitz’s hand felt on hers and what Simmons’ smile looked like.  _ Fuck. _ )

 

-

 

Skye vanishes off the grid while they’re trying to track down that hacker named Miles Whatever, who has a lead on a pyrokinetic from China, and Jemma is a little bit worried. Not very much, though. It’s not like they’re dealing with anyone or anything particularly threatening, but she  _ is _ very new in the field, and it would be such a  _ shame _ to lose such a- such a skilled and funny and and intelligent ally - it’s just professional interest. That’s  _ it _ .

 

To be honest, Jemma is having a hard time convincing herself to calm down. But that’s before Agent May’s message.

 

Skye is fine, apparently. She just got... sidetracked.  _ Shagging _ the man named Miles something-or-other.

 

Jemma knows that Skye has only known her and Fitz for a few weeks or so. She  _ knows _ that the other girl has a history with this hacker, a history that, while nowhere near what she herself shares with Fitz, is definitely more substantial than whatever the three of them share together. She’s definitely aware that Skye doesn’t owe them anything. She  _ knows _ these facts.

 

That doesn’t stop her from feeling hurt, though. Fitz seems to share her sentiments, scoffing over Miles’ image while they watch the feed from the Cage. “What does he have that I don’t?” she even hears him mutter, but when she glances over he’s turned away, trying to hide the fact that he’s gone bright red.

 

_ Fitz is  _ jealous, Jemma realizes, and squashes down any similar feelings of her own. Fitz is entitled to his crushes, despite her teasing, and really, Jemma has no substantial feelings for Skye besides a passing glance or two at her appearance and an appreciation for her skills and wit.

 

She’s pretty sure.

 

Anyway, she’s got some interesting biological samples to go over that were sent to her by a professor at the SciTech campus of the Academy. Watching Skye argue with Agent Coulson and her... boyfriend in the Cage and listening to Fitz angrily polish wire cutters is a waste of her time.

 

At least, that’s what she thinks, but then for some reason, she can’t quite seem to tear herself away from the sight of Skye’s contrite face on the screen.

 

_ These feelings might be a bit stronger that I thought they were _ , she thinks, and gulps.

 

_ Uh oh. _

 

-

 

Skye settles down on her bed, pressing the space bar on her laptop. It’s just getting to that time of day when it’s dark but the sun is definitely still out, and she’s trying to forget what’s happened today. It’s why she’s got Frasier on, because even though it’s a dumb show in which the main character is the least likable out of the lot, it doesn’t require a lot of thought and it’s funny.

 

Plus, it’s quiet enough that she can still hear the sounds of the Bus around her, which after only a month and a half have become ridiculously comforting.

 

(It’s the first time she’s lived with and around people she actually knows and cares about. It’s a weird feeling, but she thinks she likes it.)

 

If she’s being honest, though, she doesn’t really care about the sounds of the air rushing by and Coulson walking back and forth between his office and the holodesk and Ward angrily cleaning his weapons in the Cage, not the way she usually does. She’s really only doing this so that she can hear the breathing of the inhabitant of the room next to hers.

 

Jemma Simmons. The most idiotic doctor Skye knows, who jumped out of a plane today to save all of their lives moments before Fitz found the cure that saved her.

 

The person who Fitz almost jumped out of the plane after, and who Ward actually jumped out of the plane for. Someone who, Skye is just realizing, is one of her best friends in the world, and who she  _ really doesn’t want to die. _ It’s only been a few weeks, but apparently life-threatening events tend to strengthen friendships. Who knew. She certainly didn’t.

 

But she’s fine. It’s fine. There haven’t been any panic attacks yet, and Skye is only doing this because her traitorous brain keeps showing her the moment when she realized what had happened, when she’d reached the lab and seen Fitz’s face and he’d-

 

She’s  _ fine. _

 

She’s so busy trying to convince herself of the fact that she stops paying attention to what’s happening next door, which is how she misses the slow movement of the shadow across her wall, and then across her door, as footsteps dither outside.

 

She only realizes what’s happening when she hears a knock at her door.

 

But when she hears it, her thoughts shut up.

 

She doesn’t even wonder who it is. She  _ knows _ who it is, and she’s just as sure of what she’s going to do. With no hesitation, she pulls the door open and opens her arms, feeling a vaguely-shaking Simmons-shaped person fall into them.

 

“Hey,” she says, quietly, “what’s wrong?”

 

Jemma doesn’t respond, and seconds go by. Gradually, Skye manages to wrench her attention away from the scent of her shampoo to realize that Frasier is still playing where she left it.

 

Even though Simmons is making no indication that she wants to move, she makes an executive decision and begins to shuffle backwards towards the bed, which doesn’t take very long. For once, she’s grateful for the tiny closet that the ever-wise S.H.I.E.L.D. has deigned to give her to live in. As she settles them onto the bed, Jemma finally pulls her face away from her shoulder. Her eyes are red, and Skye realizes there’s a wet spot on her shoulder. She’s still shaking.

 

“I’m sorry about this,” says Simmons, gesturing nowhere in particular. She’s not meeting Skye’s eyes. “I just- I don’t want to go to Fitz right now.”

 

“Of course,” says Skye. “Jem, you can come here whenever you want.”

 

“Oh-” says Jemma, flushing. “Thank you. I- I suppose the events of the day caught up with me suddenly.”

 

“You  _ did _ jump out of a plane,” points out Skye, trying to make her smile. It doesn’t really work, but something in her face changes, around her eyes, and she counts it as a win. Her dumb, bisexual monkey brain then proceeds to get distracted by staring into said eyes.

 

“What are you watching?” says Jemma suddenly, pulling away. Skye realizes belatedly that there was only about seven inches between their faces, earlier.

 

She didn’t think twice about their proximity when Jemma was freaking out, but now they don’t have that excuse anymore. She and the other woman don’t touch very much, not in the casual way that she and Fitz always do. Skye’s always been nervous around getting physically close to straight women, like she’s being creepy or something. Especially with those she crushes on, like this woman in particular.

 

-And this woman asked her a question. Skye mentally rewinds, and then glances at the computer. The episode is  _ still _ playing.

 

“It’s- uh-” she blushes. “It’s Frasier.”

 

Jemma blinks. “What?”

 

“You know,” says Skye. “The show where the main character is- You know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s my comfort show.”

 

“Ugh, really? It’s such a dumb American show, incredibly classic-”

 

Jemma’s usual the-Colonies-can’t-do-entertainment-right speech is starting a little weaker than usual. Skye makes another executive decision and interrupts her. “Then what do you want to watch?”

 

“The Sound of Music,” says Jemma, changing tacts so quickly that Skye doesn’t register it for a minute. Then she nods. “Punching Nazis. Good choice.”

 

She turns to the laptop and pulls up the movie, ignoring the fact that it’s not on Netflix, as usual. Like that’s gonna stop her.

 

As she presses play, Jemma’s head slowly settles on her shoulder, like she’s asking for permission. Skye very carefully doesn’t let her fingers still.

 

By Maria’s arrival at the house, they’re splayed out on the bed, and by the time the kids are scared of the thunder, Jemma’s fast asleep. Skye doesn’t bother pausing. She’s coming down from a hell of an adrenaline crash, and Skye’s not going to be the one to startle her awake by moving.

 

Speaking of which, Skye’s own adrenaline crash doesn’t seem to be pulling its punches either-

 

When she wakes up, she’s alone, but the laptop has been closed and moved off of her chest, and there’s a note on the cover.

 

_ Thanks - I really appreciate you, _ it says, and Skye’s knees go weak.

 

_ Fuck. I really gotta start working on this crush. _ Skye’s not going to fool herself into anything - Simmons has been checking Ward’s ass out for weeks now, and she’s been around monosexuals for her entire fucking life.

 

She looks down at the note and curses again, this time out loud. It’s not gonna be easy.

 

-

 

Fitz isn’t sure how he feels about going on a mission without Simmons. It’s not that she can’t take care of herself - she most definitely can, especially with Skye there for her to fuss over and a Hubfull of agents surrounding her. But she’s the one who make him go out into the field in the first place, and if he can’t even feel enthusiastic with her contagious smiles next to him, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to have any fun on the mission ahead of him.

 

The fact that Ward will be there isn’t making him feel any better. Of course he’s good at his job, and of course Fitz is more than happy to have an actual experienced agent at his back. It’s just that they’re not really  _ friends _ , and if he complains to Ward about his lack of motivation, he’ll probably only say something like  _ We’re not here to have fun, we’re here to get the job done _ .

 

He’s completely prepared for a slightly-harrowing mission that involved Ward scowling more than usual and copious amounts of gunfire (well, maybe not  _ completely _ prepared), but what he’s not expecting is Ward’s contact falling through. Luckily, he’s able to get below the bar and fix the power, which makes him an instant celebrity.

 

As he’s sitting among the various residents slash employees of the boss that appears to run this entire region, Ward sits down beside him. At this point, they’re just killing time, waiting for the transport that Fitz’s good turn apparently earned them, so he’s trying to take advantage of their surroundings and imbibe a little bit of liquid courage.

 

(Yeah, it’s absolutely against regulations, and Fitz can hear Simmons’ voice in his head, telling him off. But if he’s going to survive this mission, he needs  _ something _ . Plus, it’s just one beer. He’s had more on the morning of exams, for god’s sake.)

 

“Nice job,” says Ward, nodding at him. Fitz stares at him for a second before he remembers that he should probably respond.

 

“Thanks,” he says, looking back at his beer. “I know my solution wasn’t the typical specialist let’s-rush-in-and-kill-everyone kind-”

 

“-but it worked,” Ward interrupts. “That’s all it had to do. It more than worked - it saved our lives. Both of us.”

 

“Uh- thank you,” says Fitz. It’s interesting, because he’s never really spoken with Skye’s S.O. before. He’d thought - and had probably been right in doing so - that Ward didn’t really respect him and Simmons, since they were so focused on science and so terrible at physical things.

 

Fitz has a feeling he’s earned Ward’s respect today.

 

“It’s gonna work out,” says Ward, reaching out and clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll be back in the Bus in no time.”

 

“I hope so,” says Fitz, and is surprised to find himself smiling.

 

-

 

Skye  _ really _ doesn’t like being kept in the dark. It’s probably a product of being raised without any kind of information about who she was or where she came from, but these days she can’t stand it when people keep information from her.

 

And this time - with the mission that Fitz and Ward are on - she has more than just the remnants of childhood trauma to back her up. Because while she may trust the agents ( _ some _ agents), she definitely doesn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

She  _ never _ has, but today she’s realizing that it’s really, really sketchy that Coulson, May, and everyone else who’s got a higher security clearance than Simmons refuse to give them any kind of information on how Fitz and Ward are doing.

 

Plus, she grew up in the foster system - she knows how big, bureaucratic organizations work that aren’t even based around the learning of secret information to aid in the interests of the United States. The system - the state - is more important than the individual, and it has to continue, succeed, keep its reputation intact, over anyone and everyone’s personal well being. She saw it in every state she was moved to, she saw it in the Rising Tide, and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s just gotta be worse.

 

Or at least, she’s pretty sure it’s gotta be worse.

 

(Except that Miles was the most passionate person she knew in the Rising Tide, and even he sold out for money. There probably wasn’t anyone in the group who was as unquestioningly dedicated to the Tide’s ideals as they claimed to be, and that revelations giving her serious doubts about those ideals themselves. And if the Rising Tide wasn’t right - is S.H.I.E.L.D.?)

 

(She’s starting to get the sinking feeling that freedom of information is as impossible as communism - looks great on paper, but then it runs into the greed or anger of humans and falls apart.)

 

But her crisis of ideals aside, she’s worried about Ward, her mentor, and Fitz, her friend. And Simmons is  _ really _ worried about Fitz. It would be super cute if she wasn’t feeling the same way.

 

Coulson’s refusing to tell them anything. Plus, she has negative clearance, and Simmons doesn’t know how to break rules. How are they supposed to figure out anything about Fitz’s mission?

 

It’ll take a miracle. Or at least, something more drastic than just sitting around.

 

“How would you suggest-” starts Simmons, and Skye nods once at her, crossing her arms.

 

“No,” says Simmons, realizing what she’s trying to say. Skye rolls her eyes.

 

“It’s the only way to-”

 

“I can’t be apart of your bad-girl shenanigans!” interrupts Simmons, looking pained.

 

Okay, Skye’s changed her mind. Even though she’s super worried about Fitz, Simmons is  _ adorable _ , even when she’s arguing against Skye’s perfectly logical plan that she hasn’t even heard yet.

 

“Listen,” she says, once Jemma has worn all of her arguments out. “They could be captured, or injured, or being tortured right now!”

 

“Fitz,” says Simmons, her face falling. “Tortured.” She swallows, and honestly, it’s  _ so  _ like the two of them are married or something. She almost feels guilty about manipulating her with their relationship, but it’s for  _ a good cause. _

 

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

 

-

 

“Where did ‘the Cavalry’ come from, anyway?” Skye asks, and Jemma tries her best to keep a straight face.  _ Pranking: Part 1, _ she thinks, and turns fully towards the other woman.

 

“‘Course you don’t know,” she says, glancing back at Fitz. “You spent  _ no time _ at the  _ Academy _ .”

 

“It’s quite a story,” says Fitz, meeting her eyes and smiling a little. “Imagine, if you will-”

 

She feels a little guilty making all of this up, but what May doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s just a harmless prank, anyway, and Skye’s face is  _ hilarious _ . Eventually, she has to turn away so that her smile won’t give them away.

 

Fitz evidently felt the same way, because as they high-five over the holographic model of a nuclear reactor, he’s already planning the next one. And Skye’s only just left, reeling from their  _ last _ prank.

 

“Leave it to me,” he says, and she knows this is going to be  _ good _ . That is, until she sees the gas mask he’s planning on-  _ surprising _ Skye with.

 

“That’s all you can come up with?” she asks, and barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Taking a cue from Doctor Who, which she hasn’t even seen? You two have breakfast together every day-”

 

“Well, you two watch dumb American movies every time we have a few hours off! You should have just as many ideas as I do!” he says, throwing the mask down in frustration. She almost tells him off for  _ that _ \- she told him about her and Skye watching movies together  _ in confidence _ because she was freaking out, not to be used in any arguments!

 

“And yes, of course I was listening,” he adds, reminding her that they still have work to do. “Hannah Baxter might need to be sedated more because we’re not taking the chance that she might have telekinetic powers, blah blah blah. I was paying attention!”

 

“I know, Fitz,” she says, really rolling her eyes this time and turning back to the screen. “I know you can multitask.”

 

She regrets splitting her attention so much, though, when some ghost-man appears behind her and  _ shatters _ the table. There’s someone on the plane that’s messing with things, and she needs to be aware of what’s going on, not planning pranks for later. And if the two of them had tried any of Fitz’s more... active pranks, Skye might not have payed attention to warning signals until it was too late. It’s why they’re never supposed to slack off on the job, she reminds herself.

 

Then the power goes out.

 

“We have to get to safety,” Coulson says, ushering her out of the lab and towards the safety seats that fold onto the wall. “This plane’s going down, and I trust May, but let’s not leave this up to chance.”

 

They strap themselves in, and she’s almost feeling safe. Her fear only diminishes as they join the rest of the team, but then she realizes -

 

“Guys? Wait- guys. Where’s Fitz?”

 

The rest of the team glances around, immediately concerned. Skye glances at her for a second, a question in her eyes, and Jemma shakes her head.  _ I’m not joking about this _ , she thinks desperately, wishing to god telepathy is a thing, and Skye seems to get the message, because fear suddenly runs across her face.

 

_ Fitz doesn’t know we’re  _ not _ joking _ , she thinks, and then fear creeps into her own stomach. If she loses him because he’s not taking the threat seriously-

 

Finding him is incredibly relieving, and she’s sure Ward feels the same way. Except he doesn’t really believe there’s anything wrong. “That wasn’t- this isn't a joke,” she says to Fitz, who glances back to Ward to make sure. She tries not to feel insulted and fails miserably. As if she’d joke about something like  _ this _ . She gets ready for him to make some comment about how she shouldn’t have been focusing so much on pranks today.

 

“Where’s Skye?” is what he asks instead, and she’s almost surprised, before she realizes that she’s the one he’s closest to on the plane, after her.

 

“She went to go talk to Hannah,” says Ward flatly, peering out into the gloom around them, his gun still at the ready. “She’ll be fine. Let’s get to somewhere safer.”

 

Actually, surprisingly, Fitz doesn’t make any snarky comments about her poorly-timed pranking enthusiasm at  _ all _ , even after Hannah talks the ghost down. Which means he’s not mad at her. It also means that she’s free to bring up her best idea yet.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ , guys?!” Skye shouts from her room, a few days later. Jemma looks up from her newest specimen to grin at Fitz. Without glancing away from his computer model, he holds up his hand as she moves to high-five it.

 

_ Nailed it _ . 

 

-

 

Skye’s just finishing up on this part when May arrives. She’d called her over because she had a lead on the guy that was broken out of prison by Centipede (sidenote: the phrase  _ the Clairvoyant does not like to be touched _ has gotta be on like the top five list of creepiest things ever) but took the opportunity to work on a flash drive with all the information she’s got on her parents.

 

It’s not  _ the _ flash drive with all of her info, obviously. This one’s a copy (a  _ redacted _ copy, ha ha, isn’t it ironic) that she whipped up really quickly for May. Apparently, Coulson’s recruited her to help with the search for Skye’s parents.

 

...Which she’s not sure how she feels about. On the one hand, it’s good to have extra help, especially extra help with high level clearance.

 

On the other hand?

 

May gives her weird vibes. She refuses to have any sort of conversation with anyone who isn’t Coulson (or Ward, to a certain extent) and only shows a handful of emotions: disappointment, exasperation, and terrifying-ness. Which is totally a word.

 

Also, she’s not sure she likes Coulson telling anyone he wants about her lifelong quest. It makes her feel like her secret isn’t safe with him, or that he’s about to turn around and turn her into S.H.I.E.L.D. She  _ wants _ to trust Coulson, and she does, for the most part. But this isn’t making it any easier.

 

“So I heard Coulson brought you onto the mission to find my long-lost folks,” says Skye, looking up and trying to smile at May.

 

No response.

 

(It’s not like she was expecting anything else. Still, it kind of hurts.)

 

“No, but seriously, thank you for agreeing to help. It means a lot to me. I’m glad you’re on my side.”

 

_ There we go. Sincerity. Maybe that’ll melt her icy- _

 

“We’re on a mission here, Skye, and it’s not to find your parents.”

 

_ Never mind _ .

 

“Is this why you asked me here?”

 

“Uh, no, actually. I had a lead on Po, the guy from Centipede.”

 

“Show me,” says May.

 

Oh yeah. Skye feels just peachy about trusting her life’s work to this woman.

 

-

 

Honestly, Fitz loves his best friend, but sometimes he just wants her to  _ shut up _ .

 

Like today, for instance. Of course there’s no denying that Mike Peterson is... attractive, and yes, his hostility towards her saying so is probably more about his internalized biases towards his own sexual orientation than anything else. But it’s like she can’t control herself at all - touching his pecs as often as possible, and measuring all of his dimensions by hand.  _ Honestly! _

 

Although really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Simmons  _ always _ gets flustered around attractive people, like Barry from the Academy and Alex from that bar and Skye.

 

_ Speaking of Skye- _ says his brain, trying to bring up the thoughts that have been nagging at him for a couple of weeks now.  _ I don’t have time for this. _

 

He shakes his head and pulls up the files on his tablet, which all for some reason read-

 

_ qar 'IHqu', DaSov'a'? _

 

Fitz rubs his eyes and leans in closer.  _ What? _

 

He doesn’t realize he’s spoken out loud until Mike walks to him and reads over his shoulder. “You’re a Star Trek fan, huh?”

 

“What?” asks Fitz, feeling lost. “What?- no, I haven’t seen very much- what  _ is _ that?”

 

“It’s Klingon,” says Mike, his eyebrows knitting together, and Simmons walks over to see what’s wrong-

 

“What is  _ that _ ?” she asks, unintentionally echoing Fitz. Mike chuckles a little, then begins to frown again when he realizes neither of them are smiling.

 

“It’s Klingon - a language from Star Trek that some fans learn to speak. It’s- wait, if you don’t know what it is, then why is it on your pad?”

 

“That’s what I was wondering,” says Simmons slowly. It hits Fitz like a speeding train. “Skye!”

 

“Of course!” says Simmons, throwing her hands up and turning to Mike. “This is just revenge for all those pranks-”

 

Fitz doesn’t stay to hear her explanation, instead turning and hurrying to Skye’s bunk. He can hear Jemma following close behind, and Mike walking more slowly. But when they throw open her door, all that happens is that a light dusting of- something, that flies out of nowhere and hits him in the face.

 

Mike comes up the stairs to find the two of them angry and utterly covered in the glitter that Skye has ambushed them with.

 

“What’s wrong with glitter?” Mike asks, grinning slightly. Simmons sighs and levels her gaze at him.

 

_ Hey _ , thinks Fitz,  _ at least she isn’t falling all over herself and embarrassing me anymore. _

 

“Glitter won’t wash out of  _ anything _ for months,” she says, looking at her clothes in despair. She glances at Fitz, who’s starting to appreciate the genius of this prank as the shock fades.

 

“She- she baited us into coming up here,” he says, and tries not to laugh at how peeved Jemma looks. “So that we would get covered in glitter - and it’s perfectly safe since doesn’t interfere with our work at all!”

 

“It’s just  _ annoying _ ,” says Simmons, brushing at her sleeve. Then she looks up, confused. “Where is Skye, then?”

 

“She was here when I went down to the lab,” offers Mike, glancing around. “And she’s not in the cockpit or Agent Coulson’s office.”

 

Fitz decides not to ask how he knows that.

 

“Well, she hasn’t left, so she’s probably hiding in one of the bathrooms. We can’t get in those if she doesn’t want us to,” says Simmons, deflating, and then wrinkles her nose at the state of her clothes again. “I’m going to go change.”

 

“Me too,” says Fitz, realizing that even his hands are covered in a light layer of glitter and he couldn’t go straight back to work, even if he wanted to. “We’ll meet back in the lab in five?”

 

“Sounds good,” says Mike, shooting them both a thumbs-up. “Is there anything I shouldn’t touch?”

 

“Nothing really.”

 

“Everything.”

 

Fitz and Simmons look at each other in surprise. A smile unfurls on her face, and she turns to Mike, apparently intending upon walking with him to her bunk. Fitz stares at their retreating backs (and  _ only _ backs, thank you very much, Simmons) and then shakes his head, turning away. Leave it to one of her infatuations to disrupt their synchronization. Every time she’s around someone she’s interested in, their own relationship seems to take a backseat.

 

Except with Skye, who Jemma says she isn’t interested in. 

 

(Fitz has eyes, though, and knows that the fact that she’s comfortable with Skye doesn’t magically erase the times that she stares at the other woman’s face when she’s not looking and jumps when she grabs her hand.)

 

Jemma’s skittishness around Skye (or his own, if he’s being honest) doesn’t seem to mess with their working together. If anything, they seem to work better together with Skye in the room with them, instead of when they’re just alone, which can dissolve into arguing if a problem’s hard. Skye’s presence manages to balance them out enough that they don’t fight half as much.

 

The only time he mentioned it to Skye, she’d smiled and laid her head on his shoulder, which nearly had him forgetting to breathe. “Glad I don’t mess with your ‘nerd mojo’,” she’d said fondly, using air quotes, before moving her head and going back to her work as if nothing had just occurred.

 

It’s interesting, that she doesn’t mess up the balance between them that so many people comment on. He’s not sure what it means, besides the fact that they’re obviously all meant to be good friends.

 

Lost in thought, he doesn’t look up until he’s closed the door to his bunk. He’s shocked to see Skye, seated on his bed and working on her laptop.

 

He doesn’t even have time to say anything before she closes the lid and stands up, winking at him.

 

“It was the last place you guys would look,” she says, gesturing around his room, and then looks over his glitter-covered clothes, nodding in satisfaction. “Honestly, you shouldn’t be messing around with these pranks! Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. need to focus on their work-”

 

Fitz actually thinks she’s lecturing him for a second, before he registers that she’s very definitely mocking Ward. He smiles, and she laughs, looking utterly comfortable in his space. His heart clenches briefly, and he doesn’t even try to consider what  _ that _ means.

 

“I’m going to change now?” he says, not meaning to ask a question, and she ruffles his hair affectionately. “Right. Don’t tell Simmons I was here.”

 

Then she walks off, looking innocent as a rose, although he sees her brushing off her hand to get rid of the glitter it had collected from his hair. He thinks she might be  _ whistling _ .

 

(He decides not to think about the fact that she just  _ dismissed him _ , and he _ went with it _ , before he goes insane. He’s already taking orders from her. That feels like- something like real life foreshadowing, or something. Is that a word? Deja vu in advance?)

 

( _ This is why I’m not thinking about this _ , he reminds himself, and then shoves all of his questions into the locked box in his brain labeled  _ Skye _ .)

 

Normally, this kind of embarrassment would mean the cold shoulder from Simmons for two weeks and retaliation in your near future. But she likes Skye so much - even if she denies it - that he thinks Skye will probably get off scot-free.

 

_ Note to self _ , he thinks, pulling off his sweater.  _ Blame any future pranks on Simmons on Skye _ .

 

And if he has no plans for retaliation, himself? Well, he just wants to end the cycle of violence.

 

“Well played,” he says, looking out his window to the airport they’re parked at. “Well played, Skye.”

 

-

 

Skye’s trying her best not to cry, but she’s pretty sure Ward can still tell she’s choked up.

 

“That was out of line, even for May,” she says, as they climb down into the garage of the plane. She’s trying not to clutch her bag too tightly, but it  _ is _ the only thing in her life that hasn’t betrayed her yet. So she hangs onto the handle a little tighter.

 

Ward shrugs. “No one knows what May’s thinking except May,” he says, and then puts a hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes. “Coulson will set this right, when we find Centipede and get him back.”

 

“I can help find him!” Skye insists, trying not to break down and cry, or start screaming, or start punching something. She thought she could  _ trust _ this team, trust these people to have her back when she had theirs. She  _ gave up the Rising Tide _ , the best chance she had to find her family, because she didn’t want to betray their trust.

 

And look where that got her. A wrist cuff, a missing Coulson, and a stab in the back from May.

 

And the worst thing is that Ward didn’t try to stand up for her at all. He’s her S.O., her mentor, and she thought they had been bonding a lot more since the whole Miles fiasco. It was seeming like he actually trusted her, and that they were becoming real friends.  _ Guess not. _

 

Fitz and Simmons didn’t say anything positive about her either, which hurts even more, if she’s honest. She thought they had something good going, at least some kind of pretty strong friendship, her crushes on both of them notwithstanding. She’s been working in the lab with them every day, these days, and she’s been having breakfast with Fitz and late-night movie binges with Jemma almost as regularly. They’re her best friends, or at least she thought they were.

 

But then Ward starts talking, and the words that he’s saying pierce the fog of betrayal that she’s stuck in.

 

“I believe you,” he says, glancing at all the agents swarming around them. “I’ve seen firsthand what you can do. Even -  _ especially _ \- without S.H.I.E.L.D. resources.”

 

He looks at her significantly, and Skye frowns, trying to parse what he’s saying. They’ve been training together for hours on end for weeks - she’s gotta know how he thinks by now. Right?

 

_ I’ll be without S.H.I.E.L.D. resources pretty soon, _ she thinks instead, sarcastic even when no one can hear her, and then it hits her.  _ And that means no agents to babysit everything I do _ .

 

But then her heart sinks.  _ Debriefing will last a few days if I’m  _ lucky _ , there’s no way I’m getting out in time to help Coulson. And I don’t have any equipment or allies. _

 

Ward looks to the side, and Skye turns to see Fitz and Simmons hurrying towards them, looking incredibly nervous. Simmons holds up a brown paper bag as Fitz announces that they got her something.

 

“Is it... a sandwich?” Skye guesses, and Simmons presses her lips together. Skye’s flattered, really - she knows how important that prosciutto and mozzarella sandwich is to Fitz - but she was hoping they would have something more useful, now that Skye knows what she has to do but has no clue how she’s supposed to do it.

 

“Yes, it  _ is _ that,” says Jemma, her words sounding stilted and forced. Like she’s lying. What would she be lying about, though?

 

It hits her -  _ contraband _ . She’s about to ask, but then she remembers belatedly that Simmons is an awful liar and that asking her about the potentially illegal help they’re giving her probably isn’t the best idea. Luckily, Fitz steps in and interrupts Jemma’s nervous looks, saving any chances they have of getting this right.

 

“It’s a satellite phone - damper resistant,” he says, quietly. “You get one shot before your bracelet shuts it down.”

 

“So only call if it’s an emergency,” adds Simmons.

 

Skye frowns. “What do you expect me to do with these? I mean, I get  _ what _ you want me to do, but- but I’m going to be in debriefing, in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, heavily supervised, for the next three days.”

 

“That’s right,” says Ward. “You’re going to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for debriefing. In exactly twelve minutes, two agents are coming to pick you up.” He pauses, and looks her straight in the eye. “Twelve minutes. You got that?”

 

Skye nods as the pieces click into place. She understands all of what they’re trying to tell her, now.

 

_ It’s not like I can’t get in  _ more _ trouble, right? _ she thinks, and tries not to giggle hysterically.

 

“Good luck,” says Fitz, and Simmons reaches out and clasps Skye’s hand, squeezing tight as if she can help Skye through willpower alone. As she lets go, Fitz reaches over and pulls her into a hug. Even though they do this probably five times a day, she never stops being surprised at how good he is at the hugging thing.

 

She knows it’s not the best time, but she really can’t help the surge of affection that she feels towards those two. They  _ hate _ taking risks, and here they are, putting themselves on the line to help her find Coulson, the man that pulled her out of the loneliness of her life with the Rising Tide. Ward too, and he’s the authority figure whose expectations she’s never lived up to. His helping her with this does more than any of his words to reassure her that she’s enough, without having to be amazing or a super spy.

 

The support of the three of them means more than they’ll probably ever know.

 

Ward coughs, reminding her of the time, and Skye blinks, pulling herself out of the sappy shit that’s infested her brain along with the excellent Fitz-hug she’s been gifted. It isn’t the time for that stuff.

 

“Tell May... tell her I said thank you,” she says, glancing at her three coworkers. She squeezes Jemma’s hand once, briefly, before releasing it. The four of them look at each other, nodding grimly, before all three of the others break away and hurry back to whatever they’re supposed to be doing at the same time.

 

_ It’s like they teach how to be creepily in-synch at the Academy,  _ she thinks, and glances around at the plane.   
  
Then she shoulders her bag and walks out, keeping her head held high and trying her best to not look suspicious. There should be an internet cafe nearby. If she can hold her bracelet far enough away from the computer, she should be allowed to hack into the money records of the Centipede leaders.   
  
The most important thing right now is finding Coulson. And thanks to May and the rest of her teammates, she can actually do something.   
  
Yeah. They’ll definitely never know how much it means to her.

 

-

 

Fitz waves Jemma away when she tries to talk to him. Coulson had told them a couple minutes before that Donnie Gill was going to be sent to the Sandbox, after the disaster with his friend Seth and the giant, hurricane-strength storm that hit the Academy.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” she asks, hovering at the door to his tiny bunk. He’s got a copy of  _ A Wrinkle In Time _ in his hands, and he shakes his head. “No, I’ll be alright. I just need some time alone. Why don’t you go spend some time with Skye?”

 

“What do you mean?” asks Jemma, trying to control her blush. If she slips up in the way that she’s so prone to doing, she’s doomed, and she can’t let that happen. Fitz might still have a chance with Skye, and she’s not going to put him off of her through  _ any _ of her actions.

 

“She looked a little down, earlier. She said she was headed down to the Academy again, but she didn’t quite get a good impression of it today. Maybe you could-”

 

“Show her all of our old haunts?” she finishes, trying not to smile. “Ah, yes, because we were the life of the party in our Academy days.”

 

“You know what I mean,” says Fitz, grinning slightly. “Go. It’ll do you both good.”

 

“Alright,  _ Mum _ ,” she says. “Call if you need me.”

 

“Will do,” he says. “Off you go.”

 

It doesn’t take her long to find Skye. She’s standing by the wall of the fallen, and Ward is standing behind, watching her with a fond look on his face.

 

“Is she okay?” Jemma asks in an undertone, hanging back in favor of standing with Ward. He shrugs a little. “I don’t know, but I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

 

“You think?”

 

“I know.” There’s a short pause, and then Ward speaks again. “Is it weird that I think of her like my little sister?”

 

Jemma absolutely cannot relate to that, but she smiles anyway. “No, I don’t think it is.”

 

“She’s just been looking for family for so long,” he explains. “I don’t know if she’ll ever find her biological parents, but I feel like we can be - we  _ are _ \- hers.”

 

“Yeah,” says Jemma. “I know what you mean.” 

 

This is the deepest and longest conversation she’s ever had with Ward, except one two-hour long debate about certain regulations and a bunch of mission-related talk. Even though they don’t speak very often, she still feels remarkably close to him, as she does with everyone on the plane, except maybe May. It’s less that they’ve bonded through words and more through shared near-death experiences and the bone-deep knowledge that he’ll always have her and Fitz’s backs and that they’ll always do their best to give him as much information as he needs to stop a bad guy.

 

She’s glad that they’ve somehow managed to form such a bond, just like she’s glad that Skye’s been bonding with her S.O. - they seem like they’ll work well together in the field, once she becomes a real agent.

 

“Well, I’m gonna hit the sack,” Ward says, gesturing over his shoulder. “You’ll stay with her?”

 

“Of course,” she says, meaning it.

 

It’s interesting to her, how all of them have noticed that Skye is feeling... out of sorts, for lack of a better word, and how they’re all making sure that she isn’t alone. She doesn’t know what caused this, and she’s not sure if anyone does except Coulson, but they can still be there for her when she needs them.

 

“Hey, Simmons,” says Skye, startling her out of her thoughts. She’s moved from the wall of the fallen to stand right in front of Jemma, and while she doesn’t look like her normal self yet, there’s a playful smile playing at her lips. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Oh, I thought we could- we could-”  _ pull yourself together, Jemma _ “-go to the Boiler room, or just walk around campus for a little while.”

 

Skye’s eyes brighten, and for a second it looks like she’s laughing at her. Jemma wilts a little inside.  _ Why are you such a  _ mess _ , Jemma? _

 

But then she smiles and nods. “Sounds like fun.”

 

Skye gestures at Jemma to go ahead, so she takes the lead. She supposes it’s because Skye doesn’t really know the territory, but it still makes her feel awkward, like she’s being watched.

 

It’s weird, because Jemma’s usually not this awkward around anyone that she likes. It’s probably because she’s trying so desperately to hide the fact that she likes Skye. Plus, she hasn’t had a crush this strong in- god, it must be years now. Most of her partners in the Academy weren’t serious -  somehow, she was never very interested in someone romantically during that time.

 

But it really doesn’t matter, because she’s known Skye for months now, and she’s never given any indication of being anything but straight. She knows that bi and pan people exist - of course she does, she’s one of them herself - but Skye hasn’t put out any of the usual signals that Jemma’s grown used to. So she’s very likely not interested.

 

_ And anyway _ , she reminds herself,  _ Fitz has his eye on her, and I’m not going to get in his way. _

 

“Hey,” says Skye, startling her out of her thoughts. “What’s that?”

 

Jemma follows her pointed finger to a small restaurant, the only really romantic place to eat on campus.

 

“What, that? Oh, that’s a restaurant. It’s pretty popular with the students, especially for dates.”

 

“Should we stop to eat?”

 

Jemma stops. “I meant that it’s really only for dates. It’s got a very romantic atmosphere.”  _ And you’re not interested in that _ . “It’s not really a place you go to just hang out.”

 

“Oh,” says Skye. Jemma starts walking again, starting to narrate the other buildings around her.

 

She doesn’t notice the slightly crestfallen expression on Skye’s face.

 

-

 

Fitz has a bad feeling about letting Skye going in alone.

 

Of course, there’s not really a lot of  _ letting _ involved. They make a plan together, as partners in this mission - and that doesn’t give him a thrill, no way - and she uses reasoning that he can’t argue with, saying that Coulson would want them to go in and stop Quinn from doing whatever he’s planning, especially since they lost the rest of the team on the train. And it would be wrong not to go in, even if it did involve disregarding their leader’s wishes. She’s right, of course she is.

 

But still. He has a bad feeling. So he hands her the ICER, grabs her hand and tells her to be careful, and then tries to focus on doing his own job to the best of his abilities.

 

He realizes, as he’s handing her the gun, that he’s not usually this- transparent. About the slight crush that he has on her. But they’ve just spent the whole day pretending to be dating - she kissed his  _ cheek _ , it was  _ not _ a drill, even though he’s used to them being physically affectionate it’s not usually to this extent - and she just barely escaped Quill the last time, and yeah, you know what, he is being transparent, but he has a  _ reason _ to be.

 

But they have their jobs to do. Plus, her S.O. is a specialist, so even though Fitz has been in S.H.I.E.L.D. for significantly longer than her, she is their best option for going in. And he’s obviously the best option for taking out the cars, which is a vital and important part of the plan.

 

(Later he’ll think- later he’ll wonder if it would have fixed everything, if he had followed his instincts and gone in after her. Logically, he  _ knows _ , logically he’s aware that he failed his field test and it probably would have ended up worse than before. But he’ll always wonder.)

 

He goes off to disable the cars. It’s not really important, what he ends up doing to in order to do so, (although it is in fact with his bare hands, thank you very much), because the team shows up and then-

 

They find Quinn and he has blood on his hands, and they all know exactly what that means, although no one says anything. Coulson sends them to search the house, his voice panicked, and then-

 

And then-

 

They find her body - no,  _ not _ her body, because she’s not dead, she  _ can’t _ be dead, because-

 

Because he loves her. Because he loves her, and he’s known this for a couple of weeks now, but he loves her as more than just his teammate, he’s just figured out, and he has no idea what he’s doing to do if he loses her, if he never gets to hold her hand again or feel her bump his shoulder or hug her again.

 

_ I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her _ , he realizes.  _ Bloody hell. _

 

This kind of attachment should worry him because there are rules against fraternization for a  _ reason _ . You should never compromise a mission because of your personal feelings about someone. S.H.I.E.L.D. must survive, to do further good in the world and help more people. A single person is  _ never _ more important than that mission.

 

Fitz personally thinks that the S.H.I.E.L.D. doctrine can go fuck itself if it thinks it’s more important than Skye’s life.

 

The rest of the team seems to feel the same way. Simmons found a temporary fix by freezing her, but if they keep her that cold for more than a couple more hours, Skye will sustain permanent brain damage. And to think of Skye’s mind - her sharp wit, her knowledge, her skill with coding -  _ gone _ would be- would be almost as bad as seeing her dead, he thinks.

 

So he takes the jump. He breaks all of the rules - really, probably about half of them, but that’s still significant. He does the risky thing, the way he didn’t, earlier, and follows Coulson, and Ward and Agent John Garrett, into the Guest House. And then- and then they kill people, but he shakes it off, because they’re saving Skye. And then-

 

And then a bomb starts, and they have to hurry, and the part of his brain that’s good with medicine - which is Simmons, he’s making a joke, because he’s  _ terrible _ with medicine - is not there and he  _ doesn’t know _ what drug is the right one.

 

And then- and then Fitz figures it out, somehow, gets out with the drug and with Coulson’s friend Garrett, and he manages to get the drug to Simmons in time.  _ Just  _ in time for her to inject it right before Coulson bursts in yelling for them to  _ not _ to do  _ exactly what they just did _ .

 

She is going to  _ live _ , and he will never not be grateful for this miracle. But his instincts, and the part of him that trusts Coulson, still feels worried.

 

He tries to convince himself that they’ve saved Skye, which makes all of it worth it. At least- at least that’s what he thinks. Because everything he’s seen today, everything that’s been happening, has made him less and less confident that this was their best option. Simmons’ words keep replaying in his head, about what happened to Coulson when they gave him the same drug.

 

_ “He begged the doctors to let him die.” _

 

Oh, and there’s the small matter of the fact that he’s really kind of in love with Skye, and wants to date her and kiss her and marry her and move to a small house in Scotland with her and-

 

It’s been a long 72 hours, and Fitz is  _ exhausted _ , which probably explains all of the rambling he’s been doing. Well, that and the adrenaline crash and the sheer  _ relief _ coursing through his veins because  _ Skye is going to  _ live.

 

He stops in the main room of the Bus and takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. He glances at his room, and then turns away.

 

_ It’s gonna be okay, _ he thinks, and then keeps walking, slowly enough that he can let his heart rate calm down on his way.

 

“You should really get some sleep,” he says, getting to Skye’s medical pod. Simmons doesn’t even look up from the monitor that has all of Skye’s stats.

 

“Someone needs to stay with her, in case she-” her voice breaks, like a record skipping. She takes a deep breath and looks up at him. “It’s a miracle, really. We need to be ready for her to wake up, when yesterday I was so sure-” She takes a deep breath. “She won’t have any idea of what just happened, besides. I’m the one in charge of her care, I need to  _ be _ here-”

 

“Simmons,” he interrupts, walking up to her and folding her hands in his. They’re cool slightly, and dry, the way they’ve always been. He’s not sure why he’s noticing this now. Probably the aforementioned adrenaline crash, and the fact that he’s been mentally going over his memories of Skye’s warm hands for hours now. “I can stay with her. You need to sleep.”

 

“Are- are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” he says, more sure than he’s ever been of anything. “I won’t be able to sleep unless I’m here with her, so you might as well be comfortable, in your own bed.”

 

“Yeah, um. Yeah,” says Simmons. She still hasn’t started towards the door. “But you’ll call me as soon as anything happens.”

 

It’s a question, although it doesn’t sound that way, and it’s strangely vulnerable. She’s looking reluctant, although Fitz really can’t handle trying to think of why.

 

“Of course I will,” he says gently. “Now go.”

 

She does, and he intends to sit on the chair and watch Skye breathe for a couple of minutes to reassure himself of her good health, he really does, but the moment he sits down he reconsiders his plan, very quickly.

 

Look, it’s been a long day, and Skye is alive. He trusts Simmons enough on the other things to not check on her other vitals immediately.

 

_ It’ll be fine _ , he thinks distantly, and then immediately passes out.

 

-

 

When Skye wakes up, she has no idea where she is.

 

The vaguely familiar room has dim lights on, and there doesn’t seem to be any kind of  _ immediate _ danger, so she follows the list that Ward’s been trying to drill into her for a few weeks now about being in unfamiliar places and tries to ignore how fast her heart rate is accelerating.

 

_ Catalogue your surroundings. Determine if you’re in hostile territory. Figure out how you got to where you are. Work from there. _

 

The clock on the wall pronounces it to be the middle of the night, and that’s definitely medical supplies scattered around her. The beeps she can hear seem to be a pulse monitor. Her stomach area hurts, but it’s more like an ache than anything else. Nothing to worry about, really - she’s had migraines that hurt worse than this before. And-

 

And that’s definitely Fitz curled up on the chair next to her, snoring and in perfect health. She feels her muscles start to relax, even as she berates herself for getting so worked up.

 

“F- Fitz?” she says. He doesn’t move, but lets out a particularly loud snore. Affection swells up inside  of her. He looks warm and  _ soft _ and she would normally try cuddle up with him, but she’s still a little keyed up to truly appreciate the sight. Plus, she doesn’t really- she’s not sure she can move.

 

Her throat is inexplicably dry, but manages to swallow and try again. “Fitz!”

 

He jolts and almost falls out of the chair that he’s perched precariously on. “Skye!” he says, grabbing onto one of the arms to steady himself. “You- You’re awake!”

 

“Obviously,” says Skye, trying to figure out why he suddenly looks like he’s about to cry. “What’s going on?”

 

Fitz takes a deep breath, and seems to chicken out, standing up. “I should go get Simmons.”

 

“No, you should tell me why I’m here,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him until he sits down again. He puts his hands together, almost like he’s about to pray, and then looks up at her. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

“Following Ian Quinn, I think. We were together, but then I went in after him, and- and Mike was there. And then...” There’s a surge of shock as she remembers. She pulls up her shirt and feels the bright red skin on her stomach.

 

“What the fuck?” she says. “There’s no blood.” She looks up at Fitz again. “I got shot.”

 

“Yes,” says Fitz, averting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have gone in with you, or-”

 

“No, it’s okay,” says Skye absently, still focused on the fact that all she can feel is a vague soreness. “But- but I got shot. Like, four times.”

 

“Three, actually,” corrects Fitz, looking back to her face. “We managed to- well, track down the treatment that brought Coulson back to life.”

 

_ What? What does- Oh. _

 

“You mean- wait, the information that the Clairvoyant's been after? That they’ve  _ killed _ for?”

 

“Yes,” says Fitz, rubbing a hand over his face and avoiding her gaze, now. “It was the only way to save you.”

 

_ Okay _ , she thinks. “Okay,” she says out loud. “So I almost died.”

 

“You did,” says Fitz, looking close to tears again and  _ really _ tired.  _ He’s probably been sitting there all night, _ Skye thinks, and has to wade through the emotions that brings to the surface to try and function normally.

 

“But you guys saved me,” she says, feeling- feelings  _ something  _ well up inside of her for this team, and these two scientists in particular.

 

“Yeah, I guess- I guess we did,” says Fitz. His hands are twitching, probably because at this point he’d normally grab hers in his own. Skye looks up at his nervous face and rolls her eyes. “Come here,” she says, scooting over on the tiny hospital bed that presumably Simmons has put her on and patting the space next to her.

 

“Wh- What?” says Fitz. As she’s watching, a light flush creeps up his neck to his ears. Skye smiles, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. “This bed is probably a little more comfortable than that sorry excuse for a chair.”

 

“Yeah, it probably is- But you want me to- you want us to- sleep?” he eventually gets out, his voice a squeak by the last word. 

 

Skye sighs and pats the bed again. “Do you want to get some shuteye or not? Look, I promise to not take advantage of you in your ‘emotionally compromised state’.”

 

She brings up her fingers to make air quotes, and that prompts a grin from him,  _ finally _ . She stares at his surprisingly wide smile and amends that statement to,  _ Not yet, anyway _ .

 

It takes a little maneuvering to get him in beside her, but they eventually get everything comfortable. They lay there for a few minutes in silence while Skye figures out what she wants to say to him. To her left, he finally folds her hand in his, and then it comes to her.

 

“Thanks for sitting with me.”

 

“It was no problem, Skye,” says Fitz, and she doesn’t doubt him at all.

 

-

 

Skye is officially the worst patient Jemma has ever had. Granted, she hasn’t had that many patients, but she has a handful of friends from the Academy who went on to become practicing doctors, and they’ve never once mentioned any patients this bad.

 

Of course, none of them had patients who were seconds away from death before being healed by a suspicious drug with suspicious origins.

 

_ Healed  _ completely  _ by a suspicious et cetera, _ she corrects herself, absently.

 

She’s been ordering Skye back into bed every time the other woman tries to get up, but if she’s being honest she doesn’t really have a good reason to. Skye is fine, physically, except for a sore throat from the breathing tube and some tenderness around the her abdomen. If these were any other circumstances, Jemma would banish her from the medical pod with a warning against strenuous exercise.

 

But she’s been waking up from nightmares where Skye’s wounds open back up for three days now. She’s been seeing the opposite of the miracle that the GH-325 performed, like someone took video and played it in reverse; she desperately tries to hold Skye’s skin together with her bare hands but fails, every single time, and wakes up sobbing and expecting to see fresh blood on her hands the way she did that day.

 

Jemma is never going to forget the feeling of Skye’s blood on her hands as long as she lives.

 

And she’s not even done with it, not yet. She’s been drawing samples of the blood as often as is safe for days now, trying to isolate whatever it was that the drug contained. Fitz is the only one who knows, and he’s proved an invaluable assistant.

 

Even though he seems spooked by recent events. It’s fine, though. Jemma knows the feeling. She’s not sure what caused it, but she knows with a certainty that the kind of terror that had seeped her bones is not something that one experiences when a casual friend gets hurt. Somehow, Skye has become closer to her. She’s at least in best friend territory at this point, and not just because her options, living on this plane, are slim.

 

(Jemma had plenty of relationships in the Academy, but she only fell in love a couple of times. The feeling in her gut is starting to remind her of those couple of times.)

 

But Jemma’s trying not to think about that, because isolating the drug takes priority. Fitz is probably also acting twitchy because of whatever they saw in the bunker. That same thing is what’s been making Coulson act so weird lately, and why he’s shut down all of her attempts to try and bring in other experts to help. Fitz is wonderful and all, but he hates medicine and he’s not exactly good at it, either.

 

So yes. Jemma has a lot on her plate. But that’s before an Asgardian warrior drops out of the sky and warns them about an  _ enchantress _ , of all things. As if the last week hasn’t been weird enough.

 

The threat doesn’t seem major, until she takes Ward under her spell. Jemma knows that Ward is probably the most professional one on their team, except maybe May, and if he was taken, then the rest of them have no chance at resisting whatever brainwashing they’re up against..

 

She has no intention of going out into the field, not with Skye in the state that she’s in - Coulson has her working, trying to track down Ward, and while Jemma acknowledges the need, there’s something in her that feels nervous, even though all that Skye is doing is sitting on the bed. 

 

But although she’s definitely not leaving the plane anytime soon, their lives are unpredictable, and she needs to be prepared for any eventuality.

 

“Sif?” she asks, knocking on the doorframe of the Cage. “Um- excuse me. Lady Sif.” She does a neat little half-curtsey and smiles slightly, trying not to show how she’s half scared by and half attracted to this warrior. “I have a question about Lorelei.”

 

“Yes?” says Sif. She’s seated on the floor with her back to the wall, and she’s apparently- examining her sword, or something. Her armor fits her perfectly.  _ Down, girl _ , Jemma thinks, briefly, and tries to focus.

 

“Her enchantment affects men?” she asks. Sif frowns. “Yes. I thought I was clear.”

 

“Yes, well,” says Jemma, trying to resist the urge to glance up at the camera in the corner.  _ This is important _ , she reminds herself, and ignores the butterflies that form in her stomach every time she comes out to someone. “Does it apply to- that is- is it only men, or does it affect those who...  _ appreciate _ women?” God, that sounds weird, but Jemma doubts that Asgard is very queer and she’s hesitant to use the normal wording. “Those who are attracted to women, in general?”

 

Sif’s face goes blank for a second, before she blinks. Jemma’s butterflies have become an ocean somewhere in the vicinity of her chest.

 

“No, no, it is only men,” says Sif, and then chuckles a little. “Otherwise I would be useless to fight against her.” She looks at Jemma, a knowing look in her eyes. “I think we have that in common.”

 

Jemma’s cheeks warm and she tries to lock her knees before they fail her. She went to SciTech, after all, and most of her available dating pool was not this...  _ buff _ .

 

“Yes,” she says briefly, and then drops her gaze to the floor. “Thank you.”

 

“Of course,” says Sif, watching her closely. She pauses. “You are intelligent.” She sounds... intrigued?

 

“I’m a doctor,” says Jemma. “Of course I am.” She can’t help the petulant note in what she says. It’s finally catching up to her that not only is Sif a very attractive woman, she’s also the first alien Jemma’s ever spoken to.

 

“I- have to go,” she squeaks out, and then tries - and fails - to not look like she’s fleeing the room.

 

Of course, just because she’s safe doesn’t mean that Fitz is. Or Coulson. Someone blocks the door to the medical pod when she’s in there with Skye, and it doesn’t take the hacker that Skye is to figure out that it’s Lorelei’s doing.

 

So Jemma picks up a fire extinguisher and stands behind the door, ready to take out anyone that comes near them but not intending to leave. May can handle the fighting, she’s sure of it, and her priority is to watch her patient.

 

Worse comes to worse, she  _ can _ break out, but the thought of her recurring nightmare and the leftover fear from days before keeps her where she is.

 

She’d said to Agent Triplett, when Fitz was in the bunker, that she couldn’t imagine her life without Skye, and she’d meant it. This kind of codependency should bother her, but she doubts she could live without Fitz either.

 

He’s too far for her to help, but she can do the both of them a favor and watch Skye. And if Lorelei comes to try and take what’s left of what’s hers? 

 

Jemma will make sure she regrets it.

 

-

 

Something’s happening with S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fitz has a bad feeling about this.

 

Melinda May, the Calvary, a woman who a day ago he thought was above reproach, has been reporting on them from the beginning. Ward killed a man who probably wasn’t guilty. The Hub has taken remote control of the Bus and sent drones to kill Garrett.

 

And worst of all, Simmons is inside the Hub, unaware that she’s probably surrounded by enemies. They’re not sure who to trust, and even that nice Agent Triplett isn’t beyond reproach.

 

Fitz has a very short list of people who he trusts right now. Simmons. Skye. Coulson. Ward. Garrett. It’s still jarring that May’s not on that list.

 

But for the good of the mission, he has to set aside his feelings and try to preserve S.H.I.E.L.D. Right now, his job is to help Skye try and decode the meaningless audio that’s being broadcast on every S.H.I.E.L.D. channel. It obviously means  _ something, _ and he’s pretty sure it has something to do with how nothing makes sense anymore. It’s probably something like aliens are coming to invade or a similar warning.

 

Of course, their life can’t be easy.

 

Of course, they can’t just heal Skye from what was truly a mortal wound with no consequences.

 

Of  _ course _ , this has to happen when Simmons is too far away for him to reach.

 

Because HYDRA is back. Because HYDRA never really left, apparently. Because S.H.I.E.L.D. is HYDRA, which means that  _ they have been working for and with Nazis this whole time _ , and  _ oh my god _ , and  _ Simmons has no idea _ .

 

Oddly, his brain focuses on that, pushing away the hyperventilation in favor of another big revelation.

 

He’s still dealing with the concept that he’s in love with Skye, although to be honest it isn’t really that surprising. He’s had a crush on her for months now, and he’s had a niggling suspicion since it didn’t fade the way that his crushes on various other people have.

 

Well.

 

Mostly just one person.

 

The same person who’s currently the subject of his thoughts.

 

Because he started off with a crush on Simmons - of course he did,  _ doesn’t anyone have eyes around here _ \- but he thought it had faded. And, naturally, his feelings towards her now are mixed and complicated and he’d long resigned himself to never really figuring them out. 

 

If someone’s half of your mind, how can you figure out how they relate to your heart, after all?

 

His relationship with Skye, by comparison, is staggeringly normal. They got to be friends, and then best friends, and he feels something deeper. He’s never been romantically in love before, or at least able to identify it, but he knows that’s what he feels for Skye. Without a doubt. Even if it’s progressed pretty quickly, from what he knows.

 

But if that’s what he feels for Skye, then-

 

Then the same feelings that he’s having now, when he thinks about Simmons in danger, that are frankly terrifying in their resemblance to how he felt when Skye was shot, mean something. The ones that are the same as the ones he has for Skye, who he’s in love with, mean something.

 

They mean that he’s in love with Simmons.  _ In love _ in love. Romantically and the whole nine yards.

 

And she’s going to die before he can tell her.

 

_ Well, we just can’t let that happen _ , says a voice in his head, and if it sounds like Skye he’s not going to comment.

 

_ Right. Priorities. S.H.I.E.L.D. comes- it comes first, right?  _

 

He takes a deep breath, confused at how his inner compass is wavering.  _ It always comes first.  _

 

_ Doesn’t it? _

 

No. It doesn’t. Arguably, it should, and if it doesn’t Fitz should really consider a career change. But right now he doesn’t have time for that.

 

_ Priorities? _

 

Get Garrett inside the plane safely. Secure the plane, find out where it’s headed, stop heading there if necessary. Protect Skye, and everyone else, if he can.

 

Call Simmons. Make sure she’s okay. Make sure she doesn’t put her trust in anyone, not even Triplett. Get to her as soon as possible.

 

_ Keep them both safe, _ he thinks, and glances to the side, where Skye is working at her computer, looking pale. Somehow, as if sensing his gaze on her, she looks up, and then - to his surprise - reaches out and grabs his hand in hers.

 

He’s always the one to initiate hugs and hand holding. Apparently, today is emotionally taxing enough that she’s changing her longtime policy.

 

_ I love you, _ he thinks, and as if she hears his thoughts, she smiles, and then goes back to her work, letting his hand fall out of her grasp.

 

_ I won’t let anything happen to either of you, _ he vows silently, and then gets to work. They have things to do.

 

-

 

Skye has always considered herself smart. She’d always aced her math and physics classes, all the way from elementary school to college. She  _ is _ smart, there’s no denying it. She may not have a million degrees like Fitz or Simmons, but she’s one of the best coders out there, and if she hadn’t gotten into the Rising Tide and their cause, she’d have probably gone for a master’s in engineering.

 

Her intelligence has always been one of the things that stayed with her, through all of her foster homes and tough situations. It’s part of her identity, always has been.

 

But now? Now, she feels like an idiot, and it feels fitting, because everything else she thought she knew is crashing down around her anyways.

 

_ I didn’t see it. _

 

Objectively, all of the facts are there. Someone killed Eric Koenig. There’s only two other people on base. And she herself definitely didn’t kill him.

 

_ I didn’t see it. _

 

When can you say you know someone? What does it take for you to see their soul and know their motivations? It’s gotta be enough to live on a plane with them for months. Living with them, working with them, learning from them, bonding with them,  _ trusting _ them  _ has _ to be enough.

 

_ I didn’t see it. _

 

There are only two people that could have killed Eric Koenig, and it definitely wasn’t her.

 

_ I didn’t see it. _

 

There’s only one person who could have killed Eric Koenig.

 

Skye takes a deep breath, and pushes the penny back to its place above the door.  _ We didn’t see it. _

 

When she realized that S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised, that they were working for  _ fucking Nazis _ , Skye knew that betrayal was imminent. Of course they couldn’t trust anyone, of course they had to be careful who they told what. Of course they had to watch their backs. Of course their friends might not be their friends. When Garett turned out to be HYDRA, she was shocked, but she could function. She was prepared, emotionally, and could keep moving.

 

But  _ Ward _ ?

 

_ God, why did it have to be Ward? _

 

Skye looks down at her hands and feels her stomach shudder at the sight of blood on them. Without really thinking about it, she starts to rush, and manages to run to the bathroom to get near a toilet before she throws up, but just barely.

 

She flushes the toilet, on autopilot, and makes her way to the sink. She starts to scrub at her nails, and it takes a couple of minutes for her to finally push past the fuzzy static in her brain to realize that she’s still scrubbing and that the skin is turning red and raw. She turns off the faucet and looks up in the mirror. Her hands still don’t feel clean. There’s been too much blood on them recently - first her own, and now-

 

Metaphorically, his blood is on her hands too. It’s on all of their hands. If any of them had seen it- if any of them had just  _ realized- _

 

Luckily, a voice cuts through the fog in her head that’s coming back. She needs to take action, and she needs to quickly. She can’t afford to just keep hiding in the bathroom, even if it is from Ward. She has more to do than spend her life hyperventilating in a random-ass bathroom mirror.

 

_ Why? _ protests her brain, and for a second she doesn’t have an answer, because she really doesn’t want to move. Then-

 

“Fitz,” she says aloud. “Fitz. Fitz, Fitz, Fitz-”

 

Now she’s gasping, her voice too loud and echoing off of the walls of the bathroom.  _ Fitz doesn’t know _ , she thinks, forcing her mouth closed.  _ Neither does Simmons. Or Coulson. Or- oh god, _ no one _ knows. _

 

It’s up to her to keep them safe. It’s up to her to protect them - to distract him, and then to warn the rest of the team while he’s not paying attention.

 

_ The rest of the team. _ There is no team, anymore. Coulson doesn’t trust May, which is bad enough on its own. Fitz and Simmons, her best friends, are in Portland, of all places- with Triplett, who seemed nice and definitely isn’t HYDRA, but-

 

She can’t rely on him to take down Ward, especially when he’s not expecting an attack. She trusts him - he didn’t betray Simmons in the Hub, despite her and Fitz’s anxiety over it - but she still has more faith in Ward’s fighting ability, unfortunately.

 

It hits her that the rest of her team - her  _ family _ , the people that she loves more than anything - are about to head home to a HYDRA agent and have no idea around the time that her breaths start to come in short gasps.

 

_ No _ , she thinks, trying to sound as authoritative to herself as possible in an effort to stay calm.  _ No, I  _ can’t _ afford to have a panic attack right now. _

 

Counting her breaths seems to help, and she waits on planning her next moves until her breathing has subsided somewhat. She can’t do anything to warn them until she’s got her computer (and is preferably alone), and she can’t get to her computer unless Ward is distracted, or thinks she’s doing something else.

 

She used to think she could get things past him (silly, little,  _ stupid _ things), but he must have known everything she ever tried to hide from him. She has to assume he knows exactly what she’s doing unless she’s staring into his eyes and seeing her actions fly over his head.

 

At least she’d thought to replace the penny above the door, so he still thinks she’s clueless.

 

(Probably.)

 

(She can’t afford to go down that rabbit hole, though.)

 

She has to get him out of the base. With May gone, he’s the best fighter on the team, and he’ll have the element of surprise on his side. She needs to get him out of here, and warn the team while she’s at it.

 

She doesn’t have a plan yet, but she’ll have to figure it out as she goes along.

 

As she steps out of the bathroom, she sees the window and gets an idea. They’re underground, and it’s snowing outside anyways. Someone out of Fitz, Coulson, and Simmons has to notice a window that doesn’t fit with the time outside, especially with something - like a knife - sticking out of the bottom.

 

_ Okay _ , she thinks, after a few more deep breaths, because she  _ really _ doesn’t want to be doing this.  _ Time to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. For real now. That’s the truest legacy you can inherit, punching Nazis in the face. _

 

She starts in the direction of the kitchens, trying not to freak out by counting the steps until she reaches the counter and focusing on the long line of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents backing her, starting with the very first.

 

_ Peggy Carter _ , she thinks, as she picks up a knife,  _ this is for you. _

 

Somehow, she thinks their former director would approve.

 

-

 

“Some people can be hard to get over,” Coulson had said, and all Jemma had thought was  _ truer words _ .

 

They’re in Portland, to capture a man named Marcus Daniels and protect Audrey Nathan, the woman who he’s obsessed with. The woman that Coulson is, apparently, still in love with.

 

She still doesn’t understand why he doesn’t want her to know that he’s still alive. If the love of Jemma’s life had miraculously survived an attempt on their life and she didn’t know, she’d want to be told. Immediately.

 

Coulson doesn’t feel the same way, apparently. For reasons that continue to escape her.

 

They’re waiting for Daniels to show up and take the bait they’ve set up, and she’s nervous, so she starts to whisper about the problem with Fitz on the comm line that they’ve limited to themselves. 

 

Fitz shrugs, his eyes trained on the stage below them, when she admits her confusion. “Apparently he doesn’t want to hurt Audrey by having to leave immediately.”

 

That makes a vague sort of sense, Jemma supposes. “But I still don’t understand it. You’d think the fact that they had any possibility of time together in the future would outweigh the fact that he’s in crisis mode right now.”

 

“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” says Fitz. “That’s why I don’t think that’s his real reason for hiding the fact from her.”

 

“What do you think it is?” Jemma asks, turning fully to meet his eye and accidentally forgetting to whisper. Agent Triplett turns slightly and frowns, gesturing with his eyes at the stage. She mimes zipping her lips and focuses on Fitz’s voice in her ear instead.

 

“I think-” he starts, and then stops. “I guess it seems like he values her trust too much to tell her that he lied to her.”

 

Jemma stops to consider the possibility.

 

“That does make more sense,” she says, and both she and Fitz know that means she agrees with him but doesn’t want to concede yet. “I suppose she will never have ever gone through such a revelation, and so won’t react well.”

 

“Yeah,” agrees Fitz. “She would feel totally betrayed. Imagine. She loved him, and he didn’t trust her enough to tell her of his survival.”

 

Strangely, Jemma can imagine exactly how she thinks any kind of betrayal of that magnitude would feel to her.  _ The human mind’s capacity for empathy is incredible, _ she thinks.

 

“I would hate for that to happen to me,” she says, quieter. “In any capacity. I guess I understand why he’s not doing it. I would never want to find out that someone I trusted had lied to me, especially for as long as it’s been.”

 

“Me neither,” says Fitz. Then Trip silences them both with a pointed look and a gesture down at the stage, where the lights have started to flicker.

 

“Let’s get moving,” he says, quietly, and they all start to get into position.

 

-

 

“We should make pancakes, to cheer everyone up!”

 

Fitz stares at Simmons for a second before he realizes she’s serious.

 

“What? Why?”

 

She shrugs, looking to the side. “I just thought- since Skye and Ward and May are all gone, and we still don’t know how Koenig got out without being caught on camera, and Coulson- don’t you want to cheer him up?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” he says, and tries not to immediately think about Agent Triplett, who he’s sure Simmons has in mind with this plan. Of course she does. He’s very handsome, and flirts with her constantly, and always takes her attention away from Fitz himself-

 

_ Dammit. _

 

“Pancakes sound like a great idea, Simmons,” he says, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I’ll go fire up the griddle-”

 

“And I’ll get the ingredients,” she finishes. He shoots her a smile, glad that they still haven’t gotten to the point in her crush where they fall out of sync, before turning and making his way to the kitchen.

 

He tries to distract himself on the way, but he finds his mind drifting to Trip and Simmons again. The way that she smiles at him when he’s not looking and-

 

_ New subject _ , he thinks.  _ Maybe Skye and Ward? _

 

The thing is, they have no clue where they went. He knows, logically, that Ward can easily protect himself  _ and _ Skye, but after the Italy disaster with Quinn, his emotions aren’t happy with Skye going off where he can’t protect her.

 

It’s foolish, because Fitz knows he couldn’t do much to help Skye with what could hurt her, except maybe if she were attacked by a rogue roomba or something. And it’s not that he doesn’t trust her skills - because he does. She’s been working hard with Ward, almost every day, for months, and even if she doesn’t realise it, her skills have gotten better. 

 

(Much better. Kind of scarily better, but also hot, at the same time.)

 

(He shakes himself out of  _ that _ train of thought quickly.)

 

Plus, he knows without a doubt that Ward would die before letting Skye get hurt. Especially after Italy and Quinn.

 

The knot in his chest is less of true worry and more of just anxiety, then. It’s less of him thinking that they’ll be seriously hurt (although the world really is dangerous now, what with HYDRA and the like) and more that he cares about those two (and is in love with one) and doesn’t like not knowing where they are.

 

(He’s not concerned about May, at all. Mostly, he’s smart enough to pity anyone who tries to mess with her, and plus, he’s not sure exactly what she was doing “reporting to Fury” or what about, and he’s not sure he can trust her enough to be worried. But anyway.)

 

Speaking of Fury, he really knows how to make a base. It’s nice to be in a secure facility that isn’t as overwhelming as the Hub and not as cramped as the Bus. And even though it’s underground, the rotating windows add a feeling of connection to the outdoors-

 

_ Wait. That’s weird.  _

 

The windows are all consistent, right?

 

_ Yes, they’re consistent, _ he thinks, answering his own question. He remembers saying so to Simmons, in a desperate bid to get her attention away from Triplett. He’d noticed that before they’d even left for Portland.

 

So then that begs the question - why don’t these two particular windows match up?

 

Or more accurately, why doesn’t the window around the corner match all of the others? It’s day outside, after all, so all of them should be showing a daytime scene of some kind. This one is showing a skyline lit up at night.

 

And what’s- what’s that sticking out of the bottom?

 

Fitz walks closer, abandoning his route to the kitchen. This window is enough to the side that someone would only see it if they were headed to get some food and were paying attention. He has a weird feeling that it was chosen for those very reasons.

 

As he gets to within half a meter of the offending window, he sees that the thing sticking out of the bottom is vibrating slightly, as if the window is fighting against the resistance to move.  _ So that’s what’s keeping it set at night _ , he thinks. He feels his pulse speed up, for no apparent reason. It’s probably just a mistake or something. Probably doesn’t mean anything.

 

( _ But this is Fury’s secret base. We only found it because Coulson noticed what no one else would _ , he reminds himself, and  _ this is how you felt right before the message decoded.  _ He feels the anxiety rise.)

 

The object is black and appears to curve slightly on the end-

 

Oh. It’s a knife. Of course. They’re ridiculously close to the kitchen, aren’t they.

 

Slowly, heart hammering ( _ why am I so nervous, it’s just a mistake, it’s just a mistake _ ), Fitz reaches out and pulls on the knife, which comes out with barely any resistance.

 

He keeps his eyes trained on the window as it slides up, into the rightful day scene.

 

_ Ward is HYDRA _ , it reads.

 

Fitz’s mind goes blank.

 

Almost immediately, he hears screams, and his mind pushes through the fog of shock to remind him that  _ those are Jemma’s screams _ .

 

He backs away from the window, and the knife clatters to the ground, falling out of his numb fingers.

 

_ Skye must have written this _ , he realizes.  _ She’s the only one who would have thought to do this. Koenig would have just called us, and- and why didn’t she call us? _

 

A second later, the answer hits him, and distantly he registers that the same adrenaline which has his heart racing and his palms sweating is making his brain work through the shock.

 

_ She left with him, didn’t she? She must have- she lured him out to keep us safe. _

 

_ To keep  _ us _ safe. _

 

_ She put herself directly into the most danger we’ve ever faced, just to give us time to figure out what to do. _

 

The screams have stopped, and Fitz should really go to Simmons, because he has a bad feeling about what she’s discovered and how it probably explains Koenig’s absence. But he’s rooted to the spot, with the awful knowledge that everything he thought he could rely on - okay, only some - has shattered on the ground.

 

Ward can’t be trusted.

 

Ward has been a spy in their midst, this whole time-

 

_ No. Not possible _ .

 

Through sheer force of will, Fitz crams his worldview back into place and takes a sharp left into denial.

 

_ Maybe- maybe Skye was mistaken. Or maybe- what if it was just HYDRA, trying to unbalance them, to make them lose faith? That sounds like something they’d do. That- that- _

 

He’s suddenly filled with rage. Somehow, HYDRA’s got something to do with this. Either they’ve caused the betrayal of someone who Fitz calls a friend or they’ve made Skye believe that it’s happening.

 

_ How  _ dare _ they. _

 

Fitz is going to fix this -  _ figure this out _ \- and get everyone he cares about out of this safely. He will. Even if it’s the last thing he does.

 

-

 

Mike - or the man that used to be Mike Peterson - walks out. He’s letting Ward have five minutes to make her hand over the coordinates for encrypting the hard drive.

 

Skye has an awful taste in her mouth, and it’s only partially from her throwing up earlier.

 

“I can explain,” says Ward, turning around, but she’s already going straight towards him, her fists raised.

 

“Lying- son- of- a- bitch-”

 

She’s not as strong as he is, but she makes up for it with pure rage. Or at least, she tries to.

 

“Bastard!” she says, as he grabs her hands and forces them down. “Lying bastard-!”

 

“Stop,” says Ward, and apparently even her rage isn’t enough to overpower him. “Look, Skye, just- just stop.”

 

She hates how her name sounds in his mouth. His lying, cheating, bastard scum mouth-

 

“It’s over,” he says, and she actually stops struggling, she’s so surprised to heard him say that. “It’s over, Skye. Stop fighting. You can’t win.”

 

_ Does he realize how he sounds right now? _

 

“Okay?” he asks, and shakes her wrists, as if to say,  _ You done? _ Like she’s a toddler or something.

 

She won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that, though.

 

“How could you?” she asks, instead. “We were your friends- your  _ team _ \- after everything we’ve been through together-”

 

“I was on a mission,” he says, as he grabs her left wrist and actually  _ handcuffs _ it to the railing next to them. “It wasn’t personal.”

 

“It wasn’t- are you even hearing yourself right now?” She shakes her head. She’s  _ so tired _ of feeling useless, of feeling like there’s nothing she can do, of feeling shocked and betrayed and used. And it’s  _ all his fault. _ All of it.

 

“Of course it was personal,” she says. “Of course it was. Of course you don’t believe that. God, that kind of interpersonal relationship is probably the first thing they teach you when you sign up to become a Nazi-”

 

“I’m not a Nazi,” Ward interrupts, his face twisting.

 

Interesting. She’s hit a nerve.

 

“Yes, you are,” she says, looking straight into his eyes. He’s backed away from her now - thank god - so he’s not touching her anymore, and she has more room to maneuver. “It’s in the S.H.I.E.L.D. handbook, chapter one - Red Skull, HYDRA’s founder, was a big fat fucking  _ Nazi _ .”

 

“That has nothing to do with-”

 

“And you always had that Hitler Youth look to you, too,” she says, looking away. A bitter laugh bubbles up from her throat, and she didn’t even have to try faking it. “So it’s really not that surprising-”

 

“It’s not like that,” he says, his voice low. “I had a job.”

 

“Psh, you had a-?”

 

“HYDRA wants to take S.H.I.E.L.D. down,” he says. “It wants to take down the big faceless organization. Can’t you, of all people, understand that?”

 

Skye doesn’t know what to say to that. Is it possible, that he - the fucking fascist scumbag - has a point?

 

“Look, Skye, if you- look, if you joined us, we would be  _ unstoppable _ . We’re a great team already, and we’d only get better. You and I - Skye and Ward, the stuff people tell stories about for generations-”

 

Never mind.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” she says. “Shut the- no, stop talking, I’m going to throw up.”

 

“Skye-”

 

“No, listen, because I don’t think you’ve gotten the memo. I don’t want to work with you. I will never want to work with you. I will never forgive you for what you’ve done to me, and the rest of the team. I trust S.H.I.E.L.D., and I still trust its values, even though its employees-” and here she looks back at him and grimaces, “-are mostly turning out to be hateful scum like you.”

 

Ward downright  _ growls _ and moves into her space. “Do you know how hard this has been for me? How difficult it’s been? The  _ sacrifices _ I’ve made?” He grabs the back of her head and brings her closer, until they’re touching foreheads. Skye has never felt so disgusted in her whole life. Her gag reflex actually tries to engage, before she swallows down the bile.

 

“I’ve had to make the tough decisions. And I’ve made them. Because I’m a-”

 

Skye interrupts his regularly-scheduled man tears by spitting in his face. “You don’t know anything about pain,” she says, and then she brings her knee up and almost gets him in the family jewels before he backs away.

 

“You-” he says, wiping off his face angrily. “You don’t understand.”

 

“I don’t understand?” she asks, her volume barely controlled. “Let’s see. You betrayed us - people you _ claim _ to have cared about, at least - over and over again. You didn’t have to. You  _ never _ had to. You could have stopped at any time and didn’t. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t look difficult to me.”

 

“You don’t-” he starts, and then sighs. “No. I’m not explaining myself to you. One day, you’ll understand.”

 

“You’re wrong,” she says, blinking furiously to keep the tears out of her eyes. Her voice has suddenly gotten small, and she  _ hates _ it, hates him, hates all of this, hates showing weakness in this plane that’s her  _ home _ . “I never will.”

 

“Last chance,” he says, ignoring her. “You can give the location to me, or you can give the location to him.” He jerks his thumb behind him and she wipes her eyes roughly, seeing Mike come up from behind him.

 

Her anger’s starting to fade, just enough that she can think a little clearer, now that she’s gotten the worst out of her system. She probably won’t get sympathy from Ward after this, and anyways, she’d jump out of this plane before she begged from him. But Mike Peterson, the man who brought her into this crazy world - she might be able to sway him.

 

“Mike,” she says, trying not to focus on how her voice breaks. She’s trying to be objective, she really is (using what Ward taught her and hating herself for it), but she can’t be neutral and can’t take her feelings out of this. “Mike, please, I know you’re still in there. You don’t have to do this. You can walk away now. Please, Mike-”

 

“It’s not up to me,” he says.

 

“It  _ is _ ,” she insists. “I know you don’t want to do this.” When he doesn’t react, she tries a different way, her voice growing stronger. “You’re still Mike Peterson. You’re still a father. You’re still a good man with a son-”

 

“Who I left in your protection!”

 

_ What? _ She thinks back quickly. Ace is  _ fine. _ What is he talking about?

 

“He’s safe, Mike. He’s with his aunt and under the protection of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent at all times.”

 

“And what is S.H.I.E.L.D. now?” he asks. Her breath leaves her in one gust as she realizes what he means. “HYDRA can hurt my son anytime they want, and if I get any funny ideas about rescuing him, they push a little button and blow a hole in my skull.”

 

“Fitz and Simmons can figure something out,” she insists, remembering Akela Amador. “We can- we can- Mike-”

 

She doesn’t have anything to say that could possibly reassure or sway him, and he knows it just as well as she does.

 

“No,” he says. “There’s no way out of this. Tell us how to unlock the drive.”

 

She takes a deep breath. “No.”

 

“Dammit, Skye,” explodes Ward, from the side. “Just cooperate. You’re in over your head here.”

 

“Stop acting like you can’t do anything to help,” she shoots back, before turning to Mike. “You could have shot me in Italy, but you didn’t. There’s still good in you.” She’s praying that she’s right. “I don’t think you could bring yourself to hurt me.” She’s really hoping she’s right. “I don’t think you will today, either.”

 

If she’s not right, she’s going to feel very stupid. And Simmons is going to kill her.

 

( _ If I survive Mike, _ a corner of her brain adds, slightly hysterically.)

 

But to her surprise, Mike sighs. “You’re right. I’m not going to hurt you.” He stops, and Skye’s left scrambling. Is that it? Has Garrett backed down? Are they going to-

 

“But I will hurt him.”

 

Before Skye can react, he turns and shoots Ward with something that crackles with electricity. He immediately stumbles, gasping for air. Within seconds, he’s on the ground.

 

“What did you do to him?” she demands, turning back to Mike. “What did you  _ do _ ?”

 

“Stopped his heart,” he says.

 

“His heart isn't beating?”

 

“He's having a heart attack. I can restart it or not. It's your choice,” and oooh, that’s good.  _ That’s _ clever. That’s properly evil.

 

She can’t tear her eyes away from Ward, gasping on the ground in front of her.

 

He was right. She’s out of her league.

 

“You think I don’t want to see him suffer?” she asks, but the argument sounds weak, even to her ears. 

 

“Not suffer,” Mike corrects. “Die. Garrett doesn't think you're gonna let that happen.”

 

He’s right. Skye has only witnessed death a handful of times, and it’s always the worst thing she’s ever seen. And this is  _ Ward _ . She may hate him now, but months of mutual respect and caring (okay, maybe not  _ mutual, _ but whatever) aren’t going to evaporate easily.

 

“He’s a murderer,” she says, trying to convince herself. This whole time, she’s been vaguely confident, sure at least that she wouldn’t fold under threat of pain. She’s dragged herself three yards with her bare hands and three bullets in her gut. She’d known that giving HYDRA the hard drive was the worst possible thing to do, and there was never any doubt that she’d keep it safe. She’d die to protect it, partially because she knew that Simmons would revive her just to kill her again for bending to a  _ traitor _ .

 

But now-

 

Now, there are doubts.

 

“He is,” agrees Mike. “Are you?”

 

Skye is suddenly, absurdly reminded of her first encounter with Quinn. He’d looked down the barrel of the gun she had pointed at him and asked if she had it in her to take the shot.  _ Nope _ , she’d said, and then dived out the window.

 

She’d taken a different route there, but she can’t do that here. She’s handcuffed to this railing, and even if she were able to leave, that would be just as good as letting Ward die right in front of her.

 

What’s more important? The drive or Ward’s life? Beating HYDRA or Skye’s own personal morals?

 

_ If I let Ward die here, I won’t be the same person ever again. _

 

But isn’t it selfish to let him live, just so that she can keep believing in herself? There’s more at stake here than just her own life - much less her morals. If she gives HYDRA the information they have on what brought Coulson back, they could bring people back to life.

 

Does she want to be the one responsible for Hitler coming back to life?

 

She looks at Ward, gasping on the ground, and decides that’s a little dramatic. 

 

She won’t be able to look herself in the mirror if she doesn’t let Ward live. She’ll be getting rid of the only possible ally they might have within HYDRA, now that Mike’s proven himself unaccessible.

 

Giving the drive to HYDRA would be a major screw up. But the team can fix whatever she messes up. Coulson, and Fitz and Simmons (and May) can handle this, no problem. Especially with her help, once she has some more room to maneuver.

 

Ward has stopped gasping, and is now just lying prone on the floor. She pictures Fitz’s face when he finds out that she let Ward die, when there was a chance he could have been saved.

 

She shouldn’t let him live.

 

“Stop.”

 

She can’t let him die in front of her, no matter what he’s done.

 

“Bring him back.”

 

-

 

Trip walks away, leaving Fitz and Jemma to eat the chips he’s just gifted them. 

 

Jemma’s briefly proud of how she managed not to stutter and blush when she thanked him, before her attention is drawn back to Fitz. He’s sitting next to her, his feet in the pool only seven or so centimeters away from hers, and looking up at the sky.

 

There’s not much to see - it’s hard to see the stars in America, harder than you would expect from the land of prairies and the Rockies - but she has the feeling he’s just avoiding looking at all of them.

 

She’s concerned about Fitz. He hasn’t been taking Ward’s betrayal well (although if she’s being honest none of them really have been either). He’s convinced that there’s been some kind of- something like a catastrophic misunderstanding, or something. His theories range from brainwashing to Skye saw Ward put pineapple on pizza and assumed the worst, and he hasn’t skipped telling her  _ any _ . 

 

He’s been talking her ear off, if she’s truthful, and she kind of hates how naive he’s being. They’ve agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., or at least they used to be, and they all need to step up and act like adults. Especially now.

 

But he’s set up shop in the denial stage and appears to have no plans of moving on.

 

Jemma hasn’t left any room for doubt in her brain, herself. She can’t afford to. She’s naturally prone to sympathy, and if she lets herself think that things might not be as bad as they seem, she’ll end up like Fitz in no time.

 

Plus, Coulson doesn’t think there’s any hope for Ward. And Skye jumped out of a plane to escape him. (Which isn’t a decision made lightly, she knows.) She trusts their judgement more than she trusts either her own or Fitz’s, in this case.

 

She’s startled out of her thoughts by a soft noise, and looks up to see Skye, standing by the pool and looking hopeful. Jemma glances back to the table where the other woman had been a minute ago and sees the back of Coulson disappearing into his room.

 

(She’s especially not looking forward to the fact that she and Fitz are going to have to share a room tonight, in this motel that Coulson found for them. But Skye’ll be in the room too, which- it’s a pleasing development.)

 

“Room for a third?” asks Skye. 

 

Jemma finds herself smiling immediately. “Of course.”

 

Skye bends over to roll up her pant legs, as Fitz finally emerges from his thoughts. She sits directly between the two of them, and Jemma obligingly shifts her feet so that they don’t come into accidental contact, although she doesn’t know why she does so. It’s not like she’s afraid of touching Skye, it’s more like-

 

Well, she doesn’t like to touch straight women if they’re not aware of her possible attraction towards them. It feels... unfair, somehow, like they don’t know to expect those sorts of feelings from her and so haven’t guarded themselves properly. She knows it’s the fault of the patriarchy, and that she’s not doing anything wrong, but she still- she still- she doesn’t want to overstep.

 

Fitz turns to study Skye’s face, and although their faces are closer together than usual, Skye doesn’t comment on it. Jemma’s unable to read Fitz’s expression, but she’s pretty sure he’s going to ask her if she’s  _ absolutely sure _ about Ward, because he hasn’t gotten to-

 

She realizes that neither of them have really spoken with Skye since the two of them left with Coulson and Trip to go to Portland. That was- it was only one day ago.

 

They had left for Portland in the morning, on January 14th. Today is still January 15th, albeit late in the evening.

 

_ It’s only been  _ one _ day? _

 

She’s shocked at how quickly their lives turned around. The Triskelion fell on the 12th. Before then, they had no idea HYDRA even existed, much less that they were surrounded by traitors. Hand was still alive. May was still part of the team. Ward-

 

Jemma forcibly shuts the lid on her thoughts before she goes insane. To her right, Skye closes her eyes. “I’m so glad you guys are okay,” she says.

 

“We are too,” says Jemma, and Fitz nods. He opens his mouth, and then closes it as Skye lets out a long sigh and leans against his shoulder. He stretches his arm across her shoulders and meets Jemma’s eyes over Skye’s head.

 

_ Don’t ask _ , she mouths, trying to look as threatening as possible and not like she’s burning up with envy.  _ Now is  _ not _ the time _ .

 

Fitz rolls his eyes, then nods, meaning,  _ Of course not _ , along with a few other choice words _. _ Thank god. Jemma knows from experience that jumping out of a plane can be a stressful experience, and not one she’d ever wish on anyone (except maybe Ward).

 

She’s glad that Skye seems to be dealing well with the adrenaline crash - better than she did, at least. But there’s no reason for Fitz to poke the sleeping dragon of whatever trauma she’s sure to have endured.

 

They’re all silent for a few minutes. Jemma stares at the ripples of the water and their three pairs of feet, close in the water but not touching.

 

“I was so worried that you wouldn’t see my message,” breathes Skye, so soft that Jemma almost doesn’t hear her. She’s opened her eyes, and is now staring at the sky. “I thought he’d get to you somehow and you’d trust him-”

 

“Skye,” says Fitz, quietly. Jemma glances over at him, surprised, to see him looking at Skye with undisguised adoration so strong it steals her breath. She looks away, up at the sky, quickly, before he catches her. “We’re okay, all of us. It’s going to be okay.” The envy is there, in her heart, and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

 

Skye lets out a long breath. “Yeah. It is.” Without any warning, she pulls Jemma close with the arm currently not wedged between her and Fitz. The envy dissolves into a small green worm and then into ashes. “I’m so glad.”

 

Jemma leans her head on Skye’s shoulder and lets herself look up at the stars with the two people she cares about most in the world. They may be wounded, and fewer in number than they used to be, but Jemma’s family is still good. It’s small, and broken, but yeah. Still good.

 

-

 

Fitz jerks up, gasping -  _ wait no Ward don’t drop us, don’t do this! _ \- and then doubles over from the pain in his left arm.

 

He’s not standing on the floor of the pod anymore - he’s half sitting, half lying on the wall, which is now the ground. He must have been knocked out at impact, because the last thing he remembers is falling. And panicking. And being unable to stop panicking. And then- then what must have been impact, because there’s nothing after that.

 

All the supplies has fallen onto the wall as well. He glances at the window, and then looks away just as quickly, because he can’t- he- he just can’t deal with that right now. His gaze falls upon the other person in the pod. Simmons-

 

Jemma is lying on the floor, unmoving.

 

_ Oh no. _

 

He lunges towards her, as quickly as he can manage, and uses his right arm to take her pulse. It’s strong, at least from what he can tell.

 

_ Thank god. _

 

He lets her arm drop and sits back, suddenly feeling exhausted. He scoots a little, to sit more comfortably and give his arm some room, and also so he can see her face. She has blood on her face, probably from wherever she hit her head, and he’s willing to bet he also has some on his.

 

His arm- it’s probably broken. It feels broken, anyways, just like it did when he was in second grade.

 

Actually, it feels precisely the way it did in second grade. It probably broke in the same places, too. Is that possible? Would a previous break make breaking it in the same places more likely?

 

_ Simmons would know _ , he thinks, wishing she were awake, but then he realizes it’s probably a blessing that she’s asleep.

 

After all-

 

He looks out the window again. He doesn’t like what he sees just as much as the first time.

 

There’s water outside. Lots and lots of water.

 

Ward dropped them beneath the ocean. He’d entertained a brief hope that they’d float, but that was obviously in vain. The rest of the team has no clue where they are, but they’d managed to hurt- damage- hurt Garrett before being locked in here. Now’s the best time for action, if only their team knew that.

 

_ We have to get out of here, _ he thinks.  _ I can do this. _ And then,  _ I have to get us out of here. Jemma’s asleep. It’s up to me. _

 

He squints at the bubbles rising outside the window, then closes his eyes and does some quick mental math, trying to ignore the pain in his arm. If his math is right - which it usually is - they’re about 90 feet down. They might be able to swim to the surface on one breath in that amount of time, but it would be too fast. He’s not a biologist, but he knows enough to fear the bends.

 

He takes a deep breath. That’s one escape route, impossible. _ Keep moving, Fitz, _ he thinks, and realizes ruefully to himself that Skye is in this pod with them, at least in spirit.

 

What about rescue? The EKG has some sort of wireless signal, after all - maybe he can rig that to produce some kind of distress call? Coulson and Skye and the rest of the team will be looking for them, after all. All he has to make is something that’s strong enough to reach the surface - he has no doubt that Skye can figure out how to use even the weakest of signals to pinpoint their location.

 

He reaches, and his fingertips barely graze the EKG unit. He shifts, and finds himself unable to even breathe through the pain that brings.

 

_ The arm is a priority, then _ , he thinks, and glances around. Luckily, they’re in a medical pod, and all of the necessary supplies have been scattered relatively close to where he’s sitting.

 

He grabs a splint and some bandages and gives himself a moment to prepare before starting to wrap.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. had insisted on emergency field medicine courses for him, if he was going to go out into the field without any kind of combat clearance. He’d protested throughout the entire set of courses that there was no point, because Simmons, a trained biochemist, would be next to him _the_ _whole damn time, thank you_. Now, he’s just grateful that they forced him to pay attention, and that he still remembers their tips on working through the pain.

 

Splinting his arm hurts, after all.

 

That feels like an oversimplification. He’s not used to this kind of pain. He doesn’t want to have to get used to it - it’s not  _ fair _ that he has to work through it, to do such hard things and to be stuck in situations that are life and death. He doesn’t deserves this.  _ Jemma _ doesn’t deserve this.

 

With those thoughts, the fury rises up.

 

He’s spent twenty four hours trying to convince himself that Ward couldn’t be,  _ wouldn’t be _ the kind of monster that Skye believed he was. Simmons, and Skye, and Coulson and Trip had all turned against him, but Fitz was ready to believe him, to believe in the good inside of him.

 

Ward took that belief, that  _ trust _ , and ground it to dust under his heel.

 

Fitz knows all about circumventing orders. Most recently, Simmons did so as Coulson ordered her to drop her investigation into GH-325, and before that, they would usually ignore what their bosses at the Academy research facilities told them to do, because they knew better and would always deliver eventually.

 

Ward had a choice, there. He had his orders, yes, but Fitz knows from long, frustrating experience that the cameras in that area of the Plane are unreliable and short out frequently. He could have disabled them and then made his excuses to Garrett. If he’d - and Fitz closes his eyes, breathing deep, for this, because this hurts almost as much as his arm does - if he’d really cared about them, there were  _ options _ to save them. Options that weren’t this situation that’s looking bleaker and bleaker by the minute.

 

He had a clear choice, and he chose to betray them. Fitz is starting to see how he’s made that choice over and over again, throughout the months that they’ve known him. He could have chosen to turn on Garrett any time he didn’t have eyes on them. Fitz can think of three separate instances off the top of his head when it was possible.

 

He finishes up with his arm and turns to the EKG, a few possibilities for rigging a signal in mind. He forcibly pushes away the thoughts about Ward, because now is  _ really not the time _ and he can be as mad as he wants once he and Simmons are both safe.

 

After ten minutes, he frowns, and realizes the method he was most confident about isn’t going to work. He resets everything he’s changed and tries another route, a little more sure now that he knows how the blasted thing works.

 

After another twenty minutes - no dice.

 

He grimaces and moves on.

 

Plan C doesn’t pan out. Neither do plans D through G, and then he even manages to think of an H, but it ends up being such a catastrophic failure he’s once again glad that Simmons isn’t awake to make fun of him.

 

All the while, he’s aware of their air running out, and knows that he can’t give up. Simmons may be brilliant at biology, but engineering is  _ his _ strength, and if he runs out of ideas they’re well and truly doomed.

 

_ Come on, _ he thinks, racking his brain.  _ There  _ has _ to be something we can do. We didn’t get through all of this just to be bested by the bloody ocean. _

 

He remembers, sort of ironically, that Dr. Anne Weaver, their mentor at the Academy, is an expert at pressure-related problems and would be an excellent resource in this conundrum.

 

_ Can I use my phone a friend lifeline? _ he thinks, smiling a little at his joke. And then he realizes-

 

There’s no way he can phone Dr. Weaver. Well, of course he can’t, not literally, but he couldn’t even if they weren’t stuck at the bottom of the bloody ocean. S.H.I.E.L.D.  _ doesn’t exist, _ anymore, and he’s ashamed at how quickly he forgot. Coulson and Skye will try to look for them, but the ocean is a big place, and they’ll have to catch Ward before they can even find out that they’re underwater.

 

And there won’t be the chance of anyone else picking up the signal, because the EKG broadcasts in S.H.I.E.L.D. frequencies.

 

_ Even if I managed to get a message out _ , he thinks, _ there won’t be anyone listening. _

 

The hysterical laugh that emerges from his mouth isn’t done consciously.

 

Well, then. Rescue’s out, which takes him back to his original plan. Escape, somehow.

 

Ignoring the issue of the bends, and the fact that he has no clue how to open the pod, the force of the water rushing in would knock all of the air out of their lungs. They’d need some way to get air again  _ after _ the rush of water-

 

Praying silently, he glances around, and spots one oxygen tank in the corner.

 

_ There you go, _ he thinks, and scoots sideways to check the gage.

 

It’s almost out.  _ Of course it is, _ says the little sarcastic Skye voice in his head.

 

There’s only enough for one of them.

 

_ I could have guessed that, _ says fake-Skye, or at least that’s what Fitz imagines Skye would say, if she were here. He kind of wishes she were, even though it would just mean more sets of lungs to use up oxygen and more beloved lives (by  _ him _ , they’re loved by him) at stake.

 

On the other hand, she thinks so differently from him that she’d probably be able to come up with something besides the same conclusion he’s been trying to avoid thinking about this whole time. Them working together usually produces something incredibly unexpected, while with Simmons he makes exceptional things that are usually sort of predictable.

 

He doesn’t think that Jemma helping him is going to come up with some sort of solution. They have two problems - the lack of oxygen and the fact that they can’t even open the pod in the first place. He seriously doubts that she’ll come up with anything he hasn’t already considered and subsequently ruled out.

 

Which means he can’t really- there’s not- it’s not possible to find a way out of this. He’s gone over these things a hundred times in the past hour, easily, and despite how much he just wants to live in denial forever, things don’t work like that.

 

He knows what he has to do. And he has to do it, even if he really,  _ really _ doesn’t want to. Except it’s better than any other alternative.

 

_ Jemma will never forgive me, _ he thinks. But at least she’ll be alive to hate him. He can’t bring himself to regret that.

 

He settles himself down to wait for her to wake up. He should try to wake her up, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to do that and face the reality of what’s about to happen. He’s buying himself time, selfishly, but he’s not capable of doing otherwise.

 

His mum always told him not to be scared, because it was just like how he was before he was born. He knows that, but he still misses her reassurance with a sudden and deep ache.  _ I want my mum, _ he thinks, sounding seven years old, and tries to shake himself out of it. Now’s not the time for him to get caught up on feelings. Otherwise, he won’t be able to do what needs to be done.

 

He and Simmons have had the same relationship for five - six, seven - years, now. Things are about to change, he knows. He can’t let himself- he can’t do this without her knowing. He has to tell her, about how he feels about her and Skye and the whole nine yards. He  _ won’t _ let her go on without knowing that, at least. The universe owes him that, even if it alters their relationship forever, or even destroys it.

 

To his right, Simmons starts to stir.

 

He just hopes -  _ wishes, _ desperately, against everything he knows is about to happen - that he’s around to see what ends up different.

 

-

 

As the ramp of the plane lowers, Skye catches a glimpse of Simmons, waiting for them to step out.

 

When it touches the ground, she rushes forward, gathering her in her arms. She’s- she’s soaking wet, for some reason, and seems to be trembling. But she’s  _ alive _ .

 

Skye has never been more grateful for anything in her life. Jemma is alive, and here with her, and safe. That’s-

 

And then she realizes it. She loves her, and more than that, she’s  _ in love _ with her. Jemma Simmons, nerd extraordinaire. How did she not notice it before then? She’d thought she’d loved Miles, before, but realized pretty quickly after his arrest that it was more of the joy of finding someone who she (thought she) agreed with. But this, with Jemma, is so much stronger.

 

On the heels of that realization comes another, shooting her joy out of the sky.

 

“Jemma,” she whispers, into the ear of the woman she’s still holding. She pulls back, to look her in the eyes, because something terrible’s just occurred to her, and it can’t be true, it just  _ can’t _ -

 

“Jemma, where’s Fitz?”

 

Simmons - one half of Fitz-Simmons, one half of the best team Skye’s ever seen - looks away and doesn’t answer.

 

Skye’s stomach drops several stories.

 

She’d spent the whole time Ward was in cardiac arrest considering the consequences of HYDRA getting their research about the alien miracle drug. She’d weighed the things that could go wrong, the people that could die if they got access to GH-325, versus her ability to let Ward - or anyone - die in front of her, when she could stop it.

 

Because she never doubted that Garrett would let Ward die, which just made things harder. If she - and the rest of the team - were the only people who actually cared about Ward, even the hateful scum that Ward turned out to be, she had a responsibility to save his life. Everybody deserves a chance.

 

And she’d figured that it wouldn’t be- it wouldn’t be  _ such _ a big deal, what HYDRA would discover. They could recover it, or get ahead of them, or whatever. They’d survive.

 

She’d agonized over the consequences of HYDRA getting the hard drive, and those of letting Ward die.

 

She hadn’t even considered those of letting him live.

 

And now, she feels  _ stupid _ , more than she has during this whole hell of a week, because her goddamned fucking stupid mercy cost-

 

Cost-

 

“He’s alive,” says Simmons, quickly, as if she’s realized where her thoughts have gone. Skye looks at her and realizes everything is blurry. She’s crying.

 

(She remembers reading a couple of months ago that tears are just liquid emotions that have overflowed, and is suddenly not surprised that she’s been so weepy this week. She’s more surprised that she hasn’t been  _ more _ so, considering all of the life-altering things they’ve discovered. And especially- especially given that she can’t even begin to quantify how she feels right now.)

 

“He- what- Fitz is alive?”

 

“Yes,” says Jemma, but now she’s crying too. “Yes, he is, but he gave me the oxygen and-”

 

“What?” Her brain isn’t working, she can’t make words come out right-

 

“He went without oxygen for  _ so long _ ,” she whispers. “No one can survive that without some kind of brain damage. Skye- Skye, I’m so sorry, it should-”

 

_ I’m in love with Fitz too, _ she thinks,  _ I have to be, there’s no way I can’t be, if I feel this way. _ And then she asks: “Why are you apologizing?”

 

Simmons gapes at her.

 

“I mean, it’s not- it’s not your fault, right? You can’t blame yourself. You did what you could, and- and  _ Jemma _ ,” here her voice breaks, “Jem, you saved him, he saved you, you’re both  _ alive _ , why are you apologizing-”

 

She’s rambling and probably not making any sense and she’s very aware of Coulson and May behind her, ready to say hello. She’s delaying them, and she shouldn’t be, and she knows that. But she’s very delirious from shock and the adrenaline crash of storming CyberTek and left over from finding out that Ward _was_ _HYDRA,_ only two days ago. She doesn’t have the words to describe how she feels, except that she hasn’t lost the two most important people in her life and they’re in safe hands and she is _so grateful_.

 

The rest, she leaves for later.

 

-

 

Jemma stares at her hands, but she can’t really see them. All she can see was in the pod seven hours ago, and all she can hear was said -

 

_ “You’re taking it, end of story. I couldn’t live if you didn’t.” _

 

\- was said in the pod.

 

And she can’t bring herself to think about anything else.

 

_ “Yeah, but you’re more than that, Jemma. And I couldn’t- I never could find the courage to tell you, so please- let me show you.” _

 

She’s never felt anything quite like the cold in the pit of her stomach when he’d said that.

 

_ “But- but what about Skye?” _

 

_ “She’s just as much. Both of you, you mean so much to me- I lo- Jemma, please, if you don’t do this, and get up there to make sure she's safe, I will never forgive myself.” _

 

There was very nearly none of him left to forgive her, and- and- and-

 

She nearly lost Fitz. She was seconds away from losing Fitz. If Fury hadn’t- if Fitz hadn’t seen the EKG- or if he had hit his head a bit harder- if if if-

 

She stops herself before her breathing starts to get out of control. He’d lived, and is alive and with a full (and fully-qualified) medical team now. There’s nothing he’ll get out of her panicking.

 

Arguably, she should really be at his bedside now. But she knows herself, and knows that she needs to have time to freak out alone before trying to face him, even though he’s not going to wake up for a few hours at least. Plus, she knows that she’ll just end up backseat treating him, and that’s not going to make anyone’s job easier.

 

In order for him to get the best treatment possible and the best support from her  _ when _ he wakes up, she needs to take this time for herself and deal with the several bombshells he dropped on her down there.

 

Except she’s not doing a very good job at it.

 

With a sigh, she flings herself back onto the bed. It feels far too melodramatic, but on the other hand she’s been seated here in the Playground for the past hour, her thoughts running in circles. It’s 10 PM and she’s had a very (very  _ very _ ) long day, and she should be sleeping.

 

Once again, she tries to close her eyes. Her brain helpfully supplies the look on Fitz’s face right before he hit the button.

 

She’s certainly not getting any sleep tonight.

 

There’s a knock on the door.

 

She lifts her head up. Who could  _ possibly _ want to see her now, when there’s so much to do and so many to treat?  _ Has something gone wrong with Fitz? _

 

She hates to think it, even, but why else would anyone come see her instead of sleeping?

 

_ The answer is, in retrospect, obvious _ , she realizes, as she opens the door and Skye’s standing outside. Her face still looks stricken, even though it’s been hours since she cried on Jemma’s shoulder, just outside the Bus. She knows Skye’s already been to see Fitz, knows that there won’t be any missions for a few days, at least. Everything’s f- well, everything’s about as fine as it’s been for the past week. They’re in no immediate danger, is what she means.

 

_ Then why does she still look like she’s about to cry? _ Jemma’s brain asks, and she doesn’t know the answer.

 

“Come in,” she says, just as Skye opens her mouth. “Come in, of course.”

 

“Thank you,” says the other woman, walking in quickly and stopping before the bed. “Uh- yeah. Thanks.”

 

Jemma closes the door behind her and turns to look at Skye, feeling the handle at her back. “Are you alright?”

 

“What?” asks Skye. “Oh, yeah. Me? Pshh. I’m fine.”

 

“It doesn’t seem like it,” she says quietly. Skye takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks away. Jemma moves closer to her and takes her hands.

 

“Skye,” she says, quietly, and to her surprise, she feels Skye’s hand wrap around her right wrist.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Feeling your pulse,” says Skye, still not looking at her. “I was trying to sleep, but-” she stops. Jemma is pretty sure she shouldn’t try to rush her. “I couldn’t stop thinking that I needed to see you guys. Make sure you were okay.”

 

“You went to check on Fitz, then?”

 

Jemma can’t say why the thought of that makes her heart go heavy in her chest.

 

“No,” says Skye, blinking. “I spent an hour sitting with him earlier, I know he’s okay. Or. You know. Will be.”

 

“Then-?”

 

Her heart rate is racketing up, and she can’t think straight.

 

“I was worried about you, Jem,” says Skye,  _ finally _ meeting her eyes. “I mean- I don’t- Isn’t there something called decompression sickness or something?”

 

Jemma’s heart suddenly slows. She smiles, fondly, and can’t say why she’s so relieved, except maybe that Skye is feigning ignorance on something that she’s clearly been reading about for hours. “Yes,” she says, “but Dir- Fury had me in a decompression chamber almost immediately. I’ve already stopped showing symptoms."

 

“Oh,” says Skye. “That’s- I’m glad.” She sniffles, once, and looks away. “That’s good.”

 

She’s really not able to explain her emotions right now - the relief, the nervousness, the tension. Maybe it’s because of Fitz’s- confession, or what have you, but she’s- she doesn’t want to hear anything of the sort from Skye.

 

-or at least, she doesn’t think she does.

 

Fitz loves both of them - is  _ in love with _ both of them - and Jemma’s still not done thinking about that, apparently.

 

She doesn’t know  _ how _ hearing something similar from Skye would make her feel. On the one hand, she definitely couldn’t deal with something like that right now. On that other hand-

 

It’s Skye, who Jemma has had... deep feelings for, for a while. She doesn’t think she’s  _ in love with her _ , per say, but she’s definitely on the proper track for getting there. Eventually.

 

“Simmons?” asks Skye, bending slightly so that she can look Jemma in the eye. “You with me?”

 

“Yes,” says Jemma. “Yes. I’m- Thank you for worrying.” She squeezes Skye’s right hand - her left is still wrapped around Jemma’s right wrist. Still feeling her pulse.

 

She has a sneaking suspicion that Skye isn’t as okay as she’d like Jemma to believe.

 

“When Coulson- when he told us that you two weren’t responding,” starts Skye, and then stops. “When we thought you and Fitz were dead, I- I couldn’t imagine what I would do without you guys.”

 

Jemma knows the feeling, intimately. 

 

(She realizes, in a flash of insight, that this is probably why the best agents never get close to anyone. No weaknesses for enemies to exploit, no feelings to get in the way of a mission.)

 

Suddenly, Skye releases her hands and wraps her arms around Jemma’s shoulders, pulling her in close briefly, before pulling away just as quickly.

 

(Jemma’s so grateful she has people she loves, no matter the pain such relationships bring.)

 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Skye says, and then stops. As if she had more she wanted to say, but had forgotten, or didn’t want to.

 

It takes Jemma a minute to realize that she’s waiting for Jemma herself to say something.

 

“Do you want to- do you want to watch Frasier, or-”

 

Skye smiles. “Look who likes stupid American shows now?” She’s referring to when Skye stayed with her all night, after the whole fiasco with the Chitauri disease and the jumping-out-of-the-Bus stunt that Jemma pulled. She still remembers it like it was yesterday, and suddenly wishes fiercely that they could go back, when death was still just around the corner but at least they trusted those around them to do have their backs.

 

“Touche.”

 

“But seriously, Simmons, as much as I’d like to stay with you,” and here’s the rejection, that Jemma wasn’t exactly expecting but that she can see from a mile away. “But I’m going to stay with Fitz.”

 

“You don’t need to do that,” says Jemma, immediately. “I’m going to sit with him, after I have a nap.”

 

“Oh, yeah? And how’s that going?”

 

“Shut up,” says Jemma, pushing at her shoulder and smiling despite herself. “I’m his partner, and I have a degree in medicine. I should-”

 

“He sat with me after I was healed,” interrupts Skye. “His face was the first one I saw. I need to return that favor.”

 

Jemma is about to argue, when she reminds herself to take a step back. She takes a deep breath and looks at it from Skye’s perspective.

 

“You have to tell me when he wakes up,” she warns. “I’m still- I’m very cross at him.”

 

“Of course,” says Skye. “That’s what I think, any time I’m injured -  _ Simmons is going to kill me _ .”

 

“Damned straight,” says Jemma, nodding. Her smile fades abruptly, as she remembers the nature of brain injuries like Fitz’s.

 

“He probably won’t remember much from the last couple of days,” she says, quietly. “Will you be able to handle that?”

 

“Yes,” says Skye, immediately. “You two are my best friends. I can support him.”

 

“If you’re sure, then,” says Jemma.

 

Skye nods. “I’m sure.” She reaches out and squeezes Jemma’s shoulder, fondly in a way that does something to her pulse. “You don’t have to do this on your own. I’ve got you.”

 

-

 

When Fitz wakes up, he’s got no idea where he is.

 

His gaze jumps first to where his mother is standing, near the door. The light is semi-dim, but he’d know her face anywhere.  _ It must have been serious if she was allowed to come to this medical facility, _ he thinks, and then swallows.

 

“M- Mum?” he asks, momentarily surprised when his voice stutters. Then he jumps when a lump on the armchair next to him stirs.

 

“Fitz? You awake?” it says. It takes a minute, but Fitz connects the voice to Skye just as her head pops out of the blankets heaped on her.

 

“Y- Yes,” says Fitz, and tries again to get his mum’s attention. Skye turns to where he’s facing and then looks back at him, confusion written all over her face.

 

“Who are you talking to?”

 

“My- my mum,” he manages, and when Skye doesn’t understand he feels nerves like they’re ice injected into his blood. “She’s right there,” he says, desperately, because  _ if she’s hurt and can’t see- if they did anything to her- he’s going to- _

 

Skye’s face drops.

 

“Fitz, do you remember what happened?”

 

“W- Wa- He dropped us into the ocean. I gave- I gave Simmons the oxygen...” he trails off. “What’s wrong with me?”

 

Skye sighs, glancing away from him. “You have acute hypoxia in your brain and left hand,” she says, and he almost misses the tremor in her voice.

 

“What?” he manages to get out.

 

“One of the main symptoms of this form of brain damage is hallucinations,” she adds, obviously holding back tears.

 

“S- Skye...” he says, his voice momentarily failing him.  _ Why can’t I talk? _

 

“What are you- what are you trying to say?”

 

She shakes her head. “There’s no one else in this room.”

 

“But...” he says, turning back to his mum. She’s disappeared.

 

“Fitz-” she says, and he shakes his head, bringing up his hands. Sure enough, his left hand is shaking, badly.

 

“Get- get out,” he says. 

 

Skye looks stricken. “Look-”

 

“Get. Out,” he says, and presses both hands to his head, as if to heal it through sheer force of will. She gazes at him and it looks like she’s going to cry, but she heeds his wishes and walks out.

 

With the sound of the door closing, he’s left alone with his thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to apologize in advance, because chapter one by itself has taken me over a year. i don't _want_ to take that long on the the other three chapters, but i can't promise anything since my schedule's really not up to me and the muse is... fickle. so! enjoy this chapter, leave a comment if you liked it/loved it/thought it was a masterpiece, and if you want the rest, come talk to me about this story - i'm on tumblr as smallblueandloud.
> 
> if anything, stay tuned - this is only season 1. there's still three more seasons to go, and i can't wait to see what you guys think of the other 75% of the longest thing i have ever attempted.
> 
> love y'all. now go hydrate yourselves and get some sleep!


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